Masquerade
by Fate Harbor
Summary: -Sequel to Best Laid Plans, Second in the Sister Series- Jim meets a captivating woman and their evening ends in a one night stand. When they meet again, Jim is thrilled. His lady...not so much. Can Jim win her over? Jim/OC
1. Quirk of Fate

**Disclaimer: not mine, never will be, but that doesn't stop me from loving it.**

**I know it's been a while since Best Laid Plans, but here is the sequel…finally. Enjoy! Tickle me pink with reviews!**

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"Another." Jim Kirk said to the barkeep, pushing his empty glass forward with a long sigh. God damn, but he was bored. Here he was, back on Earth barely a year after Enterprise started her 5-year mission. It was intolerable! He didn't belong planet-side! He was captain of a starship, damn it, he belonged in space! Exploring new worlds, contacting new species, defending the Federation, now that's what he was made for. But, he couldn't do any of that with Enterprise in its current condition. And so he was stuck here for the next six weeks while Enterprise languished in space-dock.

He could have gone to Mississippi with McCoy, but as much as he loved Ma and Pa Bones, Podunk Mississippi was the perfect center of boredom in the universe. Spock and Bonnie had invited him to spend this forced vacation on New Vulcan with them, but they were still newlyweds and if there was one thing worse than being bored, it was being bored around people in love. Yes, he was happy for them, yadda yadda yadda, but that didn't mean he wanted to be a third wheel.

So, it was just him and Jack Daniels tonight in this half-full dive bar. He was about to take a sip from his refreshed drink when the bar door opened with a squeak and he glanced over. Putting the glass down slowly, Jim grinned. Standing in the doorway was the night's entertainment, even if she didn't know it yet. Every man in the room was now either staring openly or glancing at her furtively and Jim couldn't blame them. The air in the room grew heavier when she came in, like a sudden change in the wind. Something about this woman simply commanded attention. As his mother would say, she had _presence_.

It wasn't how she was dressed. Tight blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a worn leather jacket didn't exactly scream 'notice me'. Maybe it was her body. She was tall for a woman, around 5'9" and was clearly in good shape. Her breasts looked on the small side, but firm and pert. She had an ass like a juicy, round apple and legs that went from here to the Neutral Zone. Wavy, shoulder-length blond hair and golden tan skin – it was like the woman he had fantasized about from age thirteen to, well…now, had come to life and walked into this bar. He didn't get a chance to reflect on any of her other assets because she was coming right for him. He took a long drag on his drink, but was disappointed when the mystery woman simply ordered a beer from the bartender and took a seat at a booth near him. He just started to rise from his seat to join her when another man sat down across from her. Looking down at his glass, he eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Hi. My name's Mason. Just thought I'd come over and introduce myself. You looked lonely." he said. Jim was tempted to scoff at the guy. Total amateur.

Mason didn't get a response from the woman, so continued on with significantly less confidence. "So, um…what do you do for fun?"

Oh God, this guy needed some remedial flirting classes and fast. Jim heard the woman blow out an annoyed huff and respond with false sweetness, an Australian twang in her words. "I like to destroy men."

Jim snorted into his drink and chuckled. Needless to say, Mason excused himself and left the door wide open for Jim. He rose from his chair again, but cursed under his breath as Bachelor Number Two slid into Mason's empty seat.

"I'm sorry, but I just had to come over here. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." Anonymous Jackass said smoothly. Jim rolled his eyes. What a stupid opening line.

The woman seemed to agree. "Next you're going to tell me my eyes shine with the light of a thousand suns or space crystals or whatever."

Anonymous Jackass chuckled; it was an oily sound. "Actually, I was going to say they shine like the light of a San Francisco sunrise, something you'll be seeing from my bedroom window tomorrow morning."

Jim shook his head. Ooh, he was in trouble now. What a tactless idiot, to jump to that right away! There was a tense silence in the booth. Jim desperately wanted to turn around and watch the train wreck, so peeked over his shoulder. Mystery Woman was leaning over the table and whispering in Anonymous Jackass' ear, but it definitely wasn't sweet nothings or naughty suggestions. Anonymous Jackass was shaking slightly and his eyes were impossibly wide. As soon as Mystery Woman settled back in her seat, Anonymous Jackass scrambled out of the booth.

Hmm, intriguing. As bad as these guys were at hitting on her, that's how good she was at scaring them off. Jim grinned wolfishly; he always did love a challenge. He signaled the bartender and asked for a beer, carrying that and his drink over to her table. Sliding into the seat opposite her, Jim got a good look at her face for the first time. Her skin was tanned a perfect gold hue and she had one of those cute, upturned noses. Taking her in, he realized her 'presence' wasn't because of her clothes or body, but her eyes. Anonymous Jackass got one thing right – she did have spectacular eyes. They were a remarkable shade of light gray; they reminded him of the sun shining from behind the clouds on an overcast day. But aside from the color, those eyes were penetrating. As soon as he sat down, they narrowed critically as she sized him up. It unnerved him.

But besides the icy attitude, so far he liked everything about her.

Jim slid the new beer bottle across the table. "I wanted to apologize for those guys. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but when a man's interested in a woman, he brings her a drink."

"Maybe I'm old fashioned, but when a girl's not interested, she dumps it in his lap." she said dryly, sweeping that critical gaze of hers across the room. Looking back at him, she rolled her eyes. "That was code for Fuck Off."

"Yeah, I got that." he said amusedly. "But in exchange for the drink, I'd love to get a name. I'll even go first. I'm J-"

"I don't want to know your name, I don't want to know what you do for a living, I don't want to know where you live. I. Don't. Care."

"Hey, if you don't want to tell me your name, I guess I'll just have to make one up for you." Jim shrugged, inwardly smirking. He didn't know what it was about that line, but it always cracked the tough ones. And either she was really tough or he was losing his touch…which, of course, meant that she was really tough.

But to Jim's surprise, his Mystery Woman perked up at the tried-and-true line. "Do that." she said.

"Do what?" he asked confusedly.

"Name me." she replied, as if it were obvious. "Give me a name that you think suits me and I'll do the same for you."

"Or." he said with a grin. "We could exchange our real names like, you know, normal people."

She sighed and massaged her forehead as she tried to put this weird feeling into words. It was a feeling that drew her to this dark, filthy bar instead of her normal hangout; it was a feeling that had been plaguing her for some time. Mentally, she snorted. 'Some time' her ass, she knew exactly when it started. Six long years she'd had this feeling and something about the man in front of her made the long repressed need for escape boil to the surface.

Suddenly, her head snapped up and Jim was spellbound by the passionate fire in her eyes. "Don't you ever just want to get away?" she asked desperately. "I mean really away. You get vacations from everything else, right? From family, friends, work, neighbors, home. Tonight, I don't want to be me. I'm tired of being me, I've been doing it for 25 years and I need to get away, if only for the night."

Jim had a fist under his chin and a slight smile on his face as he listened to her. She gestured wildly, trying to express this bizarre impulse of hers. Her voice rose and fell in easy Australian rhythm and the expressions on her face were entrancing. It had been a while since he'd stepped outside the normal one-night stand, dating routine. Her suggestion, while probably an indication of her being completely insane, might just cure his boredom. The grin on his face got wider as she continued.

"People don't realize all that a name encompasses! Every time someone says your name, there's baggage attached to it. Any time someone has said that name in anger or disappointment or disgust or even happiness or love, it all makes its mark on that word! I don't want any baggage tonight and I don't just mean the bad stuff. A new name would be like…like a masquerade mask: protecting you just enough to let the real you come out. Does any of this make sense to you?" she asked pleadingly, as if needing just one person to understand how she felt.

The small smile on his face gradually disappeared, replaced by a look of pensive concentration focused solely on this strange, crazy, captivating woman. Yes, he understood that feeling. His entire childhood, he had the baggage of being George Kirk's son. It had defined him and sometimes, all he wanted was to get away from the Kirk legacy. And now, as Captain of the Enterprise, his heroic acts defined him. True, he could and had been defined by worse, but it meant people didn't bother to look behind that and get to know the real him.

"It makes a lot of sense, actually."

Mystery Woman breathed out a heavy sigh, like the burden of this impulse was lighter just for having told someone. "Good. So…do it then. Name me."

Jim studied her, looking for hints of her character. She was a strong woman, that was plain to see. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind and she didn't put up with anyone's bullshit. He also got the feeling she could be dangerous if she wanted to be. Something in the way she carried herself and scanned the room every now and again hinted at a background in defensive training. But then there was something else, too, something that intrigued him. Her desire to 'step outside of herself' spoke of an interesting mind, a deep soul and a hard life. And once again, he was back to those damned eyes of hers. They were powerful and persuasive. With everything all together, this was one formidable woman.

"Delilah." he blurted. "Delilah suits you."

"Why's that?" she asked, the first hint of a smile stretching her lips.

"Because I have a feeling you could bring a strong man to his knees." Jim said seriously.

Delilah threw her head back and laughed. Her laugh suited the rest of her: unrestrained, rough and genuine. "I like it."

"Well, Delilah?" Jim asked cheekily. "Where's my masquerade mask?"

Delilah studied him too. The man was incredibly handsome, which wasn't anything new for her. She was constantly surrounded by good-looking men in her job, but they were her comrades, her partners-in-crime. She'd never been interested in them, let alone as wildly attracted as she was to the man across from her. His eyes were playful and mischievous, a sparkling light blue. He was confident to the point of arrogance, persistent to the point of relentlessness, and as flirtatious as any long-time ladies' man. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight, and if his mischievousness and arrogance were any indication, he probably sought them out and won most of them. She was profoundly drawn to him; maybe it was their conversation, which was refreshingly _real_, or maybe it was just him.

"Malak." she said finally. "I'd call you Malak."

"That's not a name you hear everyday." Jim commented. "Why Malak?"

Delilah smiled and licked her lips, travelling into her memory. "My mother told me a story once, about a man she met before Papa. His name was Malachi but she called him Malak. I remember she got this faraway, love-struck look in her eye when she talked about him. She told me, 'I fell in love in a day and it lasted a week…but what a week.' I've thought about that a lot over the years. I think that's how it would be between us."

Jim sobered and looked at Delilah intently. "You think we'd fall in love?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "No, I think we wouldn't last. You feel it too, don't you? A kind of…magnetic pull between us? That kind of connection isn't strong enough for real love. You and me, we'd be like an erupting volcano: explosive and dangerous together but that kind of heat and pressure can't be sustained forever. We would burn out as quickly as we came to be."

Jim leaned against the back of the booth, thoroughly engrossed by the woman before him. Earth wasn't the only thing he'd gotten bored of. The dance of seduction was always the same these days. Maybe it was too easy now that he was a starship captain and an intergalactic hero; there were no surprises or challenges to dating anymore. The women blended together and the conversations were all the same. Or maybe he was just getting older and outgrowing his womanizing ways, as Bones always said he would. But either way, this woman captured his attention like no other.

"You are by far the most interesting woman I have ever met." Jim said, a mystified half-smile on his face.

"It'll stay that way, too." Delilah said. "Because I don't plan on being around long enough for you to lose interest."

"Crazy as it sounds, I don't think I would lose interest." Jim said, the truth of that statement hitting him only after he'd said it.

Delilah laughed again. "Lying to yourself is the first sign of mental illness, Malak. No, you and I are meant to have this one night together and no more. After all, a masquerade can't last forever."

"Then let's make the most of it." Jim said determinedly, standing up and holding out his hand. Delilah hesitated. She knew what he was asking, and right now, it truly felt like the baggage of her life had drifted off her shoulders for the night. She was completely stunned to realize she wanted him.

_Just this once_, she thought to herself. _I'll get my one night and that will be the end of it. I'll be wild and sensual and responsive, because tonight, I'm not me. Tonight, I'm Delilah._

She finally put her hand in his and let him lead her out of the bar.

"Your place or mine?" Jim asked, running his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Yours." she responded immediately. They set off through the dark streets of San Francisco, walking through clouds of vapor rising from the streets.

"So Delilah, do I get anything real?" Jim asked. He liked this, a night with a mysterious stranger, but it wasn't enough. She intrigued him and he couldn't leave this encounter without something real of her to remember. He needed more.

"I guess it couldn't hurt." Delilah shrugged. "One question."

"I better make it a good one, then." Jim said. He thought about it and decided he agreed with her; he didn't want to know her name or her job or where she lived. He talked about those things on every date he'd ever been on. It all seemed too mundane and too shallow for this conversation and especially for this woman. He wanted something about _her_. "Alright, I got it. What's your motto? You know, words you live by everyday. Something at the core of everything you do."

"Live like you have a death wish." Delilah answered instantly.

Jim stopped cold on the sidewalk and turned to her, a look of complete awe on his face. "I think I love you." he breathed, only half-kidding. She laughed, tugging on his hand and pulling him forward.

"Hey!" Jim cried, stumbling to catch up with her. "Don't you want to know something about me?"

"Oh, I suppose." she grinned mockingly. Staying silent for a minute, she met his eyes and asked, "If you could change your past, would you?"

Jim walked next to her silently, swinging their joined hands between them. It was a question he'd pondered a lot. Since his encounter with Spock Prime, he'd gotten glimpses of another life. One where he'd made different choices and had different, and in some cases, better experiences. But would he change any of it? The haunted sadness in his mother's eyes when she looked at him or her frequent absences? His childhood delinquency or his enrollment in Star Fleet? His actions during the Nero incident or the members of his senior staff?

"Nah." he said, tilting his head up to the sky. "It's supposed to be like this. Sometimes I'm sitting on the brid- I mean, at work and I just get this feeling. Like everything is square with the universe and things are as they should be."

Delilah smiled at him sadly. "You're lucky to see things that way."

"You would change something?"

"You already got your question, Malak. Don't push it." she warned, her light teasing covering up an undercurrent of seriousness.

They continued on in a comfortable silence, the anticipation rising palpably between them. Jim felt the absurd desire to drag her by the hand and run the rest of the way to his apartment. They'd be there in no time but it didn't seem fast enough. Delilah was refreshing, original and totally unique. She had a dry, quick wit and an intensity that drew him in. That magnetic pull she mentioned grew stronger with every step, creating a weird blend; he was comfortable with her but his attraction to her was urgent and deep in a way he'd never experienced.

He wasn't a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but if this wasn't love at first sight, he didn't know what was. Nodding determinedly, his mind was made up. If he had anything to say about this, tonight wouldn't end as a one night stand. She may not be planning to stick around but he could be incredibly persuasive, especially when naked. He had no long-term plans or expectations, just the need to explore this…them…her, further.

Next to him, Delilah was also lost in thought. She was surprised at herself, honestly. This was so out of character, which of course was the point, but agreeing to go home with him isn't what shocked her. The fact that she wasn't the least bit nervous, however, did. She wished she could see sex like others, as no big deal, but going home with a stranger was a huge step for her. But Malak had a strong, confident presence that made her feel ready. And with this newfound readiness, her body seemed to come alive. Her skin sparked with awareness and sensitivity as his thumb brushed over her hand. She couldn't help but imagine his hands touching her electrified body elsewhere. Stealing glances at her pensive companion, her breath quickened. Those wicked blue eyes, his lean and muscular body, those full lips…it all drove her to distraction and moved that pulsing electric need decidedly south.

Delilah had never discussed it with anyone before, but her experience in the bedroom was more a lack thereof than anything else. But tonight, she wasn't going to let that stop her. She knew what felt good, her sensitive spots and how to give herself pleasure. Tonight, no over-thinking or self-consciousness; she would let her body lead the way. This was just a one-off. She would never see Malak again, so what the hell, right? Nodding to herself firmly, her mind was made up. She would explore Malak's sculpted body, take what she needed from him and leave.

"We're here." His voice cut through her distractions. She turned to him and nodded, climbing the steps to his apartment. It seemed like everything revved up. Her body became a mass of nerve endings and arousal and her mind was filled with desperate, long-suppressed desire. Time seemed to speed up. Suddenly, they were inside his apartment. Malak gestured around the living room and his voice sounded distant and distorted. Delilah hung back and watched him from behind. Her pupils dilated, nostrils flared, tongue darted over lips, and her mouth twisted into a feral smile.

"So, this is my place." Jim said, a hint of impatience in his voice. God, he wanted her so much. He wanted to shove her up against the wall and sink inside of her, but some dance steps had to be followed. In his experience, women usually liked a little tour and conversation before jumping into it. As much as he hated it, he didn't want to screw this up. "Well, not really, its just regulation housing, but its good enough. Although it does have a great view and the balcony is-"

Jim cut off as Delilah grabbed his bicep and spun him around. She fisted his shirt in her hand and pulled him down into a hard and urgent kiss. It was unexpected, but Jim didn't waste any time on surprise. He got lost in the burning need right along side her, kissing her back with startling force and passion. His lips never left hers as he cupped her perfect, apple-round ass and pulled her up until her legs came around his waist. He groaned into the kiss – he could feel the heat between her thighs even through the layers of clothes. He bucked against her unconsciously, smirking against her lips when she let out a faint growl of pleasure.

Delilah managed to shrug her jacket off even while pinned to the wall and Jim slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt, feeling the hot, soft skin of her waist and stomach. The sound of their panting breath and heated kisses echoed throughout the room. Neither wanted to stop, but the need for oxygen became too great. Jim ripped his lips from Delilah's with a gasp, trailing down the column of her neck instead. All of a sudden, Delilah unwound her legs from Jim's hips and pushed him away from her.

"What the-" Jim managed through his haze of lust. He looked at Delilah confusedly, but his only answer was the smoldering look in her eye. Spellbound, the next few seconds played out in slow motion. His crazy mystery woman grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. He froze. He gulped. Then two words sounded in his head. _No bra_. Gorgeous breasts, perfect for filling his hands. Small, dusky, rose-colored nipples, peaking from the cool night air.

And then his mind just…stopped. In two strides, he was pressed against her and somehow, they became even more frenzied than before. Kissing was wilder, hands moved faster. Then his shirt was gone and he couldn't remember which one of them had taken it off. And God, how many hands did this girl have? They were running over his chest and back, her nails lightly grazing over his nipples and making him shudder. Jim lifted her up again, settling their hips together. He ground against her as he explored her breasts. First with his hands, making her whimper. Then with his mouth, making her gasp and cry out. But when her hands drifted to the edge of his jeans, it was like a blinding white light flashed behind his eyes. The urgency and need went to a completely new level.

"Bedroom." he murmured huskily. He started in the direction of his room, Delilah still wound tight around his body. Her hands kept exploring and God help him, her mouth started exploring too. The trip to the bedroom was a bumpy one, but nothing could stop this insatiable lust. He knocked his shin against the coffee table then ran into the arm of the couch, causing them to tumble onto it in a heap. At some point, they both fell to the floor. Delilah seemed too busy undoing his zipper to care, so he picked her up once more. Still kissing like it was going out of style, he stopped one last time, shoving her up against the doorjamb of his bedroom. Somehow, he managed to kick his pants off before stumbling further into the room and falling onto the bed on top of her.

"Why the hell are you still wearing pants?" he panted in between kisses.

"Stop complaining and do something about it." she demanded, taking his hand and guiding it to her jeans.

Delilah knew he was good, having spent the last ten minutes soaking through her panties because of him, but he removed her pants like a magician removes a table cloth from under piles of dishes. In one smooth tug, he had her pants and underwear off. It took him less than a second to have his own boxers lying on the floor and then he was on her again. It felt so indescribably good. Skin on skin, nothing between them, their body heat and breath mingling. His hard length rubbed against the inside of her thigh, making her inner muscles clench and throb in pure feminine need.

"Malak, please." she pleaded breathlessly, desperate for more.

Jim wasted no time in guiding himself to her center. He had wanted her from the first moment he saw her and here she was, flushed and panting and absolutely beautiful beneath him. He couldn't wait anymore and entered her in one long, swift stroke. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking deep breaths to keep from ending too soon. She was wet and silky and so, so tight; her muscles were pulsing around him. He hadn't felt this out of control since he was a teenager and struggled to contain his overwhelming desire enough to move inside of her.

He didn't notice her eyes shut tight or the gritting of her teeth until he lifted himself off her shoulder. She was in pain. And once the fog cleared from his mind a little, it was no wonder. She was incredibly tight and he was larger than most.

Stroking her hair, he whispered, "You should have told me it's been a while for you. I would have-"

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his. "It's a good pain." Then she smirked and bucked her hips, making them both groan.

Jim took the hint and began to move, slowly in and out. The feeling of him inside her, stroking her walls and hitting that sensitive spot with every thrust, made that pool of white hot liquid spread through her stomach and down her legs. Her thighs began to shake and the sounds coming out of her mouth grew louder and more desperate. Jim read her body and sped up, the sound of their bodies coming together joining the sounds of their pleasure.

Once he began to move faster, he couldn't control it anymore. His hips slapped against hers faster and harder. She screamed and begged and mumbled incoherently, first in English then slipping into some foreign language. The words were guttural and passionate and it turned him on like nothing else.

"Come on, baby." he rasped. "I know you're close. Just let go. I wanna hear you scream it. That's it, baby, come on."

Another string of foreign words erupted from her mouth, this time pleading and nearly delirious. Sweat beaded on his forehead and soaked his hair, but his hips never stopped the relentless pounding rhythm into her body. Then a hoarse and earth-shattering scream ripped from her mouth. Her back arched, her muscles spasmed around him and her eyes rolled back in her head. Jim followed right behind her, emptying himself inside her body and letting out his own forceful roar.

For a moment, neither of them could breathe. The force and passion seemed to suck all of the energy out of their bodies, leaving them winded and fatigued. When Jim finally had the strength to roll off of her, he could only blink tiredly up at the ceiling and whisper, "Damn."

"That was-" Delilah couldn't finish her sentence. She didn't think there was a word to describe what that was.

"Yeah." Jim agreed, still panting. Rolling over, he threw an arm across her stomach and murmured sleepily, "Stay."

She said nothing and watched him drift off to sleep. She waited until she was sure he wouldn't wake up, then scooted out from under his arm. Delilah dressed quietly, still buzzing from earlier. Looking over at his sleeping form, she kissed his lips lightly.

"You'll forget me soon enough." she whispered, frowning slightly. "Everyone does."

Without another look back, she left.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim woke to the bustling sounds of San Francisco and sunlight streaming into his room. Immediately, he rolled over to kiss Delilah good morning only to find she wasn't there. Her side of the bed was cold and her clothes were gone. He sighed in disappointment, throwing an arm over his eyes. It was no surprise, really, but part of him hoped she'd stay. Throwing back the covers, he moved to get up but froze when something on his pure white sheets caught his eye.

Blood.

His mouth fell open. There was blood on his sheets. She was…she was a virgin? But…but…but he was a man-whore! He didn't like it, but it was true! Women did _not_ lose their virginities to James T. Kirk! Why the hell wouldn't she tell him? Why would she want to give it to him, some stranger? Why hadn't she had sex before?

He fell back in bed, once again exhausted. It seemed all he'd ever have of Delilah were questions. He'd never know who she really was or why she went home with him.

"I fell in love in an hour and it lasted the night." he blew out a long sigh and then smirked. "But what a night."

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	2. We Meet Again

**Disclaimer: still not mine. When, Lord, when? When's gonna be my time?**

**For those who don't know, MACO stands for Military Assault Command Operations. **

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"You know I love space, Admiral, but the replicators can't compare to San Francisco Chinese food." Jim said, patting his stomach. "Thanks for dinner."

"My pleasure." Admiral Pike responded. "How have you been enjoying shore leave, anyway?"

"Ready for it to be over." Jim grumbled. Pike chuckled at his young friend, shaking his head.

"And you, Mr. Spock?"

"It has been quite satisfying, Admiral. Bonnie and I stayed with my father on New Vulcan. The development there is impressive." Spock responded, walking by Jim and the Admiral along the Embarcadero.

"How is your wife? No complications, I hope." Pike asked.

Spock's lips lifted ever so slightly, as they did whenever someone mentioned his mate. "Her pregnancy is progressing without incident, unless one counts her craving for plomeek broth with jalapenos and blueberries."

"Come on, Spock, that's disgusting. I just ate." Jim grimaced.

There was a moment of silence between the three, which Pike ended by clearing his throat. "Jim, Spock, I had another reason for asking you both to dinner. I've been heading up a project for Star Fleet Command for the past year and it will affect you two."

"What is it?" Jim asked suspiciously.

Pike ignored him and continued on. "As you know, the situation with the Klingons is getting tenser by the day and those damned Romulans seem to be hiding around every nebula and planetoid in the quadrant. We need experienced tactical officers onboard many of our ships, including yours."

"Wait just a second! I didn't hear any complaints about my tactical skills during the Nero incident. We don't need a tactical officer."

"This isn't a request, Jim." Pike said sternly, before smirking. "And if I'm not mistaken, isn't your ship at Jupiter Station because of a run-in with the Klingons?"

"Low blow, Admiral."

"Do you have someone in mind?" Spock asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do. We've been loaned ten of the best tactical soldiers the MACOs have and-"

"You can't be serious!" Jim exploded. "The Enterprise is a ship of peace! What kind of message would it send if you put a psychotic killer on my bridge?"

"Stop right there." Pike scowled, stopping abruptly. "I've spent the past year familiarizing these guys with Star Fleet protocol and procedure; I've worked with them on space warfare tactics day in and day out. I know them. I know their families, their strengths, their quirks and I would trust any one of them with my life. They're not killers, they're soldiers."

"Really." Jim said flatly. "Remind me, what's that motto they have?"

"Honor, Loyalty, Bravery?" Pike offered with a smirk.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Spock cleared his throat, reciting the MACO maxim. "'Being a MACO is about getting caught and not talking, killing without caring and dying without fear.' I believe the phrase is their unofficial motto. A rather grim adage."

"An adage that proves they're bat-shit insane!" Jim added, turning to Pike. "Keep your MACO; I want no part of this."

"Jim, whether you like it or not, I've already assigned you somebody. Major Andre is going to be your Tactical Officer, Security Chief and the third member of your command team. I hand-picked her for your ship because she has qualities both of you can respect and work with. Like Spock, she's studious, thorough, loyal and dedicated to the job. And like you, she's creative, resourceful and she never gives up. And, I might add, the woman's more than a little reckless with her own life."

"Pardon me, Admiral. While I don't entirely share Captain Kirk's concerns regarding our future comrade, I believe one near-suicidal command officer is more than enough for Enterprise. Two would stretch even my patience to the limit." Spock said.

"Thank you, Spock! If anyone's going to be risking their life for _my_ ship and _my _crew, it's going to be me!"

Pike slowed his pace as they came upon a bar called simply _Mick's_ and stopped completely at the door. Looking Jim in the eye, Pike responded, "Not anymore."

With that, the Admiral pushed the heavy door open and entered. The two officers glanced at each other uncertainly, but stepped inside. The bar was styled like an old Irish pub. People were talking over one another, ordering pint after pint of lager and stout and the bartender was hunched over the bar reading a newspaper. When the bartender looked up, a wide smile lit up his face.

"Admiral! This is a pleasure! Come to keep an eye on yer rowdy bunch, have ye?"

"Mick." Pike greeted, shaking the man's hand. "How've they been tonight? Behaving themselves?"

"More or less. Mostly less." Mick shrugged. "A chair was broken when Patel and Healy got into it. LeBeau and Andre gave some prick the beat down when he smacked Andre's arse. All in all, a pretty routine night."

Pike sighed and shook his head. He turned back to Jim and Spock. "Listen, I've got to take care of this. Why don't you guys go to the back room. Ask for Major Andre. And Jim…give her a chance. That's an order. "

Pike turned back to the bartender and Jim and Spock made their way to the back of the bar.

"I can't believe we're about to willingly enter a room with ten MACOs. They'll never find our bodies." Jim drawled.

"I suggest we take Admiral Pike's advice. If we are to work with Major Andre, we must make the effort to know and trust her."

"I hate it when you're right."

The two arrived at the back room and opened the door. Inside, it was total chaos. Two men were arm-wrestling and two more were cheering them on. Two men started sparring in a corner of the room and from the look of things, they weren't going easy on each other. A very dark woman was sitting in the corner just watching her colleagues and taking the occasional sip from her beer. Two men and a woman were sitting at the table, laughing uproariously. The woman had her back to them but they could see that she was cleaning a very large gun while she listened to the dirty jokes flying around the table.

One of the men cheering on the arm-wrestlers was the first to catch sight of them. He looked older than the rest, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, but he was built like a brick wall. Leaving the match, he walked over to them menacingly, his eyes narrowed.

"Got a reason for bein' back here, gents?" Colonel Mike Trelvik asked, slurring his words and smelling of strong liquor. His accent was heavy Australian and for a moment, Jim was reminded of Delilah. He still thought of her all the time, even three weeks after their night together, but he quickly shook it off.

"I'm Captain Kirk of the starship Enterprise and this is my First Officer, Commander Spock. We're looking for Major Andre."

"She's being assigned to you, then?" At Jim's nod, Trelvik grinned and clapped them both on the back, sending them stumbling forward. "You're getting a fine officer, mate. Just hope you can handle her. Lana! Get your ass over here and meet your new Captain!"

The woman cleaning the gun turned around and Jim's jaw dropped.

"Delilah?" he yelled.

"Malak!" she exclaimed, shock etched in every feature. All of the MACOs stopped their activities and watched the exchange, their eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I didn't. Admiral Pike found you for me." he explained, a grin taking over his face. They fell silent and stared at each other, electricity flying between them. One of the men sitting next to her looked between them suspiciously before settling on his comrade.

"Lana, who is this guy?" the MACO asked.

Major Lana Andre shook out of her stupor and said absently, "My new captain, apparently."

"You two know each other?" a tall guy near Jim asked.

"No!" she denied quickly, as Jim said, "Yes!"

Just then, Pike walked through the door. "Ah, Jim, I see you've already met Colonel Trelvik. He's the senior officer in the MACO trial program."

The two men exchanged a brief handshake and returned their attention to the Admiral. "So, is everyone getting along?"

"That remains to be seen, Admiral." Spock responded, confused by Jim's interaction with the female soldier.

"Well, these things take time." Pike said diplomatically. He walked over to Lana and she stood at attention, grateful for the opportunity to distract herself from Malak's intense presence.

"At ease, Major. I want to introduce you to Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock. You'll be working with them, starting next week."

"_That's_ Jim Kirk? But he commands…" Lana trailed off, going still.

"The U.S.S. Enterprise." Pike finished proudly. He was expecting gratitude, shock or even excitement from her, but her reaction was far from his expectations. The golden tan left her face in a rush, replaced by stark white skin. Her eyes widened and she collapsed into her chair, shaking.

"Enterprise." she whispered to herself. She knew there was a chance, but it was one in ten. She'd prayed for any ship but that one. _He_ was on that ship. She couldn't face him, not after all these years. Sure, the situation with her and Kirk would be awkward, but seeing _him_ again would destroy her. What would she do when he realized who she was? She could only hope that he wouldn't recognize her. After all, it had been six years. Last time he'd seen her, her hair was long, stringy and mouse-brown. She'd chopped most of it off and it had been dyed blonde under the hot Australian sun. She was a waif back then, bordering on gaunt, but time had rounded her face out and added toned muscles to her physique. In the past, she had been so full of repressed anger but joining the MACOs forced her to forge real strength. The only thing she couldn't hide was her eyes. They would be a dead give-away.

"Y'akay, mate?" Trelvik stumbled to Lana's side, shaking her shoulder.

"Huh?" she asked dazedly. Realizing that the whole room was staring at her, her face flushed in humiliation. She immediately got to her feet and stood at attention in front of the Admiral. "Admiral Pike, it's an honor to be placed on the flagship of the fleet. I appreciate this assignment."

"Really? Because a second ago, it looked like you were going to be sick." Pike said skeptically.

"I'll perform my duties aboard…that ship to the best of my abilities, Sir. If you'll excuse me, I have some arrangements to make." Lana walked tall as she left the room, but inside, she was still quaking.

"Delilah, wait!" Jim called. She kept walking, quickening her pace. Turning back to the room, he asked, "What's wrong with her?"

"Enough to keep Freud busy for two lifetimes." One MACO snorted, his comrades chuckling with him. "Enough of this shit. Who's up for poker?"

The MACOs converged on the table, the conversation excited and loud. The soldiers concentrated on the cards and the Star Fleet officers were forgotten. Spock and Pike walked to the door, but noticed Jim hadn't moved.

"Captain, will you be joining us?" Spock asked.

"You guys go ahead. I'm going to stick around." Jim waved them away absentmindedly, his eyes centered on Colonel Trelvik. He put on his patented Kirk Smirk and caught the big MACO just as he was sitting down to be dealt in. "You know, poker's more fun when you're liquored up."

"Kid, everything's more fun when you're sloshed." the Colonel laughed.

Jim grinned. "Then let me buy you a shot."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim pounded his fists onto Mick's office desk and couldn't stop laughing as Colonel Trelvik drunkenly re-enacted his fight with a Klingon female. A very _aroused_ Klingon female.

"Honestly, mate, I couldn't tell if she was tryin' to fuck me or kill me!" the Colonel laughed. "Even worse, I couldn't tell if I was terrified or turned on! I don't care what anybody says, there's somethin' irresistible about an armed and dangerous woman."

Despite being thoroughly drunk, Jim smirked inwardly. This was the chance he'd been waiting for all night. "Speaking of armed and dangerous women, tell me about my new officer."

"Lana?" Trelvik settled into his seat and blew out a long sigh. "What can I say about Lana? She's…she's…the perfect soldier." he concluded, frowning.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not…when there's a fight around. But when the soldier's not needed, all you're left with is a very complicated woman." Seeing Jim's thoughtful face, he hastily added. "Don't get me wrong. The girl is a certified tactical genius. Her strategies and scenarios are inventive, unpredictable, effective – I've never seen anything like it. It was no surprise to anyone that she got assigned to the flagship; she's the best."

"But?" Jim prompted, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Trelvik remained silent, taking a sip from his shot glass. He stared into nothingness, deep in thought. Just as Jim opened his mouth to break the silence, Trelvik snapped out of it. "You know what I did for my last shore leave?"

Jim started in his seat, not sure where the MACO was going with this. "What?"

"I caught up on some sleep, ran a few errands, visited my family. Read some and just generally relaxed. Know what Lana did? She took a knife and a canteen into the Australian Outback and survived for two weeks."

"That," Jim breathed, his eyes wide with excitement. "is the sexiest thing I have ever heard."

Trelvik snorted and continued on. "Time before that, she navigated the Bloodsmoke Caverns of Trill with that helmsman of yours."

"Wait. She knows Sulu?" Jim asked, shocked.

"Better than anyone. They're _real _close." Trelvik gave a wicked half-smile, as if he knew something Jim didn't. He sobered only a moment later and continued. "My point is, Lana is the best because this is all she does. When she's not fighting, she's training. When she's not training, she's working out. When she's not working out, she's studying. Aside from Sulu, she doesn't have close friends; I don't think she has any family. She's a woman of limited interests and they all revolve around the fight. She joined up when she was nineteen, so she knows a lot more about death than she does about life. Maybe settling on Enterprise will change that."

"Enterprise is more than a ship; it's a home." Jim said seriously.

"Good. She needs one." Trelvik sighed. He looked over at Jim and gave a tired half smile. "You're a good man, Kirk. Take care of my girl, huh?"

"She doesn't strike me as the type that needs taking care of." Jim pointed out.

"She'd be the first to agree with you." Trelvik chuckled weakly, his eyes drifting shut.

Jim didn't notice the Colonel slumping in his chair or the light snores escaping him. His mind was in overdrive and he'd never been more certain of anything in his life. Delilah – or rather, Lana – had to be his. She was intriguing, intense, dangerous, adventurous and so right for him it was ridiculous. Seriously, surviving in the Outback for fun? That was so hot, it gave him _goosebumps_! So what if she was maniacally dedicated to the job? So what if she was complicated and messed up? And so what if she could probably kill him five different ways with nothing more than a hair pin? That just added to her appeal! The challenge of the chase was on and best of all…she had nowhere to run. She would be serving on his ship, interacting with him all the time and he would pour every ounce of charm and persuasion into each encounter. He patted the unconscious Colonel Trelvik on the shoulder as he left Mick's office, a satisfied smirk on his face. Oh yes, she'd be his. It was only a matter of time.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Virtual cookie for anyone who recognized the MACO motto and what movie it's from :) Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming and I hope you enjoy!**


	3. On Board

**Disclaimer: I want. But alas…**

**Thanks to those who have read and especially those who have reviewed. Kay Bee, Rogue Angel, xbubblesx3o18x, and thetraveler2627, thanks so much for the love!**

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"Jim, you're gonna give yourself an aneurism." McCoy drawled, unscrewing the cap of his flask. "Relax, it's just another crew member."

"I can't help it." Jim groaned, bouncing on his toes and running a hand through his hair. Damn it, when was she going to get here? The report said her transport would be at 0600 hours and it was already 0602!

"Perhaps if you enlightened us as to the nature of your association with Major Andre, we would understand your enthusiasm." Spock suggested, allowing his curiosity about the pair to surface.

"It's a long story, buddy. But don't worry. Once she falls madly in love with me and wants to have my children, I'll tell you all about it."

"Would you care to wager the outcome, Dr. McCoy?" Spock raised an eyebrow, allowing a small smirk to settle on his lips.

"I say she shoots him with a plasma burst if he so much as lingers on the handshake." McCoy chuckled.

"You're forgetting she is a MACO, Doctor. I believe she would use a more intimidating weapon when putting the captain in his place. A bat'leth, perhaps."

"Excellent point, Mr. Spock." Bones agreed with a wicked grin.

"Oh, ha ha. I'm so glad you two are getting along now." Jim grumbled.

"In all seriousness, Jim, a MACO? Really? And Christ, you've only met her once! It's high time you dumped some testosterone and learned what we grown ups call self-control."

"What has self-control ever done for anyone?" Jim asked dismissively, waving the notion away.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "That is perhaps the most illogical statement you have ever made."

"Glad to see I can still surprise you." Jim grinned.

"I hate to interrupt your bro-mantic banter, lads, but Star Fleet Headquarters is ready to transfer the Major." Scotty cut in, never taking his eyes off of the transporter controls.

"Then, by all means, energize." McCoy responded, adding, "Before Jim spontaneously combusts."

"Aw, can't we rag on him just a wee bit more?" Scotty mock-pleaded. "I have'na had a turn yet!"

"Now, Scotty!" Jim shouted over his laughing friends. Scotty gave a cheerful 'aye, aye' and initiated the transport. As soon as the rings of light appeared on the pad, the genuine smile on Jim's face morphed into a confident, authoritative smirk. His posture straightened, the incessant fidgeting stopped and the look in his eyes became sharper and more challenging. Spock, McCoy and Scotty watched as their friend transformed from Jim into Captain Kirk. Jim interacted with them so naturally, there were times when the three nearly forgot he was their commanding officer. But in moments like this, when the Jim they knew took a backseat, it was clear very few people knew the _real_ James T. Kirk. The three stood a little taller, realizing they were included in that small number.

The transporter beam dissipated, leaving Lana Andre on the pad. Jim's hooded eyes never wavered from her face, even as she gazed back with her startling grey eyes. It seemed this pull between them left them staring at each other every time they met, but once he was done, they'd do more than just stare. For the moment though, he was content just to take her in. She was gorgeous as ever, though something was different. The intensity of her presence was still there, but the spark of laughter she'd had _that night_ was gone, as was her smile. And much to his disappointment, she was wearing black slacks and a form fitting red shirt instead of the customary dress. But, no matter, she was here now. The sooner he started chasing her, the sooner she'd be his.

Before the room came into focus for Lana, before she even saw the other men, wicked and twinkling blue eyes filled her vision. She nearly groaned. She'd spent the past week agonizing over coming to Enterprise. In her more crazed moments, she'd even considered resigning her commission with the MACOs to avoid seeing _him_. And in her frazzled state of mind, she'd almost forgotten that her would-be captain was also her first and only lover. Shit. Maybe he'd forgotten? Or didn't really care? She could only hope. But the way he was looking at her, his eyes filled with heat and promise, she knew she wasn't that lucky. Well, she'd just have to make it _inescapably _clear that their one-night stand would stay that way. Determined to be all-business, she walked up to him and handed over her transfer orders.

Jim didn't even look at them. He smirked. "You're late."

"Oh, don't worry, Captain." Lana said with false sweetness. Her eyes narrowed and her voice held heavy warning as she continued. "It's never going to happen again."

Jim grinned. It was clear she wasn't talking about her tardiness. "We'll see." he responded casually. Lana opened her mouth to retort but Jim cut her off. "What, no dress?"

"I'll wear one when you do, Sir." Lana retorted. Her plan to keep things professional wasn't going so well, but she wasn't about to wimp out of a challenge. And just about everything this man said held a hint of challenge.

Apparently, Jim decided he was done annoying her for the moment and he greeted her with a warm, firm handshake. "Welcome aboard, Major."

"Actually, it's Lieutenant Commander." she said. "I've been granted a field commission with Star Fleet."

"I thought you were just on loan."

Lana scowled and grumbled, "It's an indefinite loan."

"You sound awfully enthused." McCoy commented dryly.

"You chose to be in space, I didn't." she shot back. "I hate The Black. It's nothing but a wasteland of destruction surrounded by emptiness and oblivion."

"You know," McCoy started, looking at Jim. The two smirked at each other, remembering their first meeting. "I can't put my finger on why, but I like her."

"So glad to have your approval, strange-man-I've-never-met." Lana said, rolling her eyes. "Can we get on with-"

Suddenly, Sulu came barreling into the room, yelling, "Where is she? Am I late?"

"Hikaru!" Lana shouted, a grin splitting her face. The two collided in the center of the room and hugged each other fiercely. McCoy and Spock each raised an eyebrow in synch and the other eyebrow joined in when Sulu and Lana kissed.

Jim could hardly believe his eyes. Was…was this seriously happening right now? He stared at Lana and Sulu; the helmsman's arms were tight around her waist and she was clutching his neck. The kiss wasn't obscene, more like a sustained peck on the lips. Without even realizing it, anger welled up in his chest. That is not the way a grown man kisses a grown woman! Sulu didn't know what she needed, what made her moan and scream and do that vibrating-hip thing! Sulu didn't know about her need to escape her life, which she did, _with him_! And she was a virgin! She wanted him, not Sulu! Jim started moving toward the unnatural, unholy couple, but suddenly realized what he was about to do. He jerked his foot back before he even got half a step, shock overtaking him. This wasn't him. He didn't get jealous…ever. If one girl wasn't interested, no big deal, there were plenty of others who were. So then why was his first instinct to beat the ever-loving shit out of one of his good friends?

Sulu and Lana split apart, still holding each other loosely but with a gap between their bodies. They stared into each other's eyes, the look bringing a powerful energy into the room. Jim couldn't look away, his jealousy turning to disbelief. He'd never felt anything like the connection he had with Lana. It was an instantaneous draw – more than a random meeting between two people, but a _knowing_ and a déjà-vu type of recognition. And that's what he saw between Sulu and Lana.

The two stared intently for another few moments before Lana broke the silence. Speaking with a mischievous grin, she said to Sulu, "Let's do it."

Sulu's eyes went wide and he glanced nervously around the room at his fellow officers. "H-here? Now?"

"Yes, now!" she demanded. Seeing Sulu's uncertain face and realizing force would get her nowhere, she switched strategies. Pouting coyly, she glanced up at him from under her lashes, knowing he always caved when she put on her sad-puppy face. "But it's been so long. I don't want to wait. Come on, Ru, no one does it like you." She punctuated her point by backing him up to the bulkhead and pushing him roughly against it, a feral gleam coming into her eye. "No one can satisfy me like you."

Jim's eyes narrowed. No. She. Did. Not.

Hikaru rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and bounced on his toes. "That's not fair, Lana." he whined. "You know I can't resist you when you're being all psychotic and playful."

"So stop resisting." she grinned a predator's grin. "The way you move, the way _we_ move when we're together…it's a thing of beauty. Just admit it! You want it as badly as I do."

"Ugh, fine!" Sulu burst out, matching Lana's grin. "Let's do it."

Lana mashed their lips together briefly and hissed, "It's about bloody time."

The other four men in the room were frozen in shock, mostly at Sulu's behavior. This was not the man they'd gotten to know over the past year. The Hikaru Sulu they knew was a gentle, brilliant and very private man. His joking side was subtle and witty; he was usually calm and even keeled. But this entire encounter was totally out of character. Who was this girl, that she had Jim half in love with her and Sulu acting like a different person around her?

The two seemed oblivious to their audience and, after that heated display of blatant dirty talk, the other men expected them to start dry-humping against the transporter console. But instead of coming together, Lana and Sulu put a good four feet between them. Smiling insanely at each other, they were practically twitching with excitement.

"You ready?" Sulu taunted.

"So fucking ready. Let's do this." Lana smirked.

Jim, Bones, Spock and Scotty watched confusedly as the two bowed to each other then adopted very advanced fighting positions. They held their poses for a moment, then flew at each other. The flawless skill and raw power was nothing short of amazing. Every punch, hold, kick, flip and violent maneuver was executed with such precision and speed, their limbs seemed to blur together. Their movements were so in synch with each other, it seemed less like a fight and more like a dance. Sulu brought an arm overhead and Lana blocked with her forearm. Lana trapped him in a hold but Sulu broke out of it by flipping her over, onto her back. Sulu brought his leg parallel to the ground in a roundhouse kick but Lana caught his foot and used his momentum to slam him against the bulkhead. The lighthearted teasing was gone; their faces were set in stony expressions of concentration. It was clear to their audience that they were watching two masters at work.

The fight continued for a few more minutes, groans and grunts being torn from the two combatants. Sulu got in a punch to Lana's solar plexus and a couple of good kicks to her ribs. Lana slammed her iron fist into Sulu's face twice, kneed him in the gut and gave him a jarring head-butt. But other than a few points of contact, the two kept their defenses tight.

"A week's worth of replicator rations on the Saucy Aussie." Scotty announced enthusiastically, mimicking their fight by throwing little punches of his own.

"I'll take that bet." McCoy responded, his eyes glued to the fighters.

"Captain, do you intend to let this continue?" Spock asked, taken aback by this impromptu display of combat.

"If you want to get in the middle of that, be my guest." Jim scoffed, all the while staring at Lana. Her hair was getting damp from sweat, a pink flush had risen in her face and her chest – her glorious chest – was heaving to accommodate her labored breathing. It all took him back to that night – how she'd looked beneath him, naked and glistening. But the look in her eyes is what really took his breath away. Sulu's held focus and control, but Lana's were wild with emotion. There was rage in there, determination and desperate need too. But more than that, they looked _alive_. The color had lightened to the grey-white hue of spent ashes and they held a spark of hunger and excitement. It was the same smoldering look she'd had the entire time she was with him. So…the fight made her feel alive. And he had the same affect on her. Jim grinned. Seems she wasn't as immune to his charms as she pretended to be. He tucked the information away for later use and went back to watching the bout.

Both were breathing heavy but they didn't lose speed or strength. While Lana had one leg raised to kick Sulu in the head, Sulu ducked low and swept his leg out, unbalancing her. She was knocked back onto the floor and Sulu immediately straddled her. He pinned her legs together with his own and had one of her arms secure. It looked like the fight was almost over, with Sulu coming out as the victor. But before he could pin down her other arm, she brought her elbow in sharp contact with his temple. With Sulu momentarily stunned, she flipped them over and wrapped herself around him like a pretzel. She forced his arms uncomfortably behind his back and hooked her legs tightly around his.

"Give in?" she panted.

Sulu struggled for a few moments, looking for any weakness in the hold. When he found none, his body went limp and he nodded reluctantly. Lana unwound herself from him and stood, offering him a hand. Sulu took it graciously. They faced each other in silence for a moment, bowed, and then both started laughing.

"God, I missed you." Sulu laughed, wincing as the movement stretched his split lip.

"Likewise." Lana grinned, holding the ribs on her left side. "You're the only one who can still pin me."

"You mean _almost_ pin you. That was a nice move, by the way."

Scotty started clapping, a jolly smile on his face. "That was bloody well amazin'! Ya ever think about takin' that act on the road?"

"We should get you to sickbay." McCoy said. "And maybe Bonnie's office while we're at it. You guys are nuts."

"We don't need to go to sickbay. We're not sick." Lana said matter-of-factly, Sulu nodding in agreement. "It's just some light bruising."

"Light bruising, huh?" McCoy deadpanned. Sulu's face was swelling up and already turning a greenish-purple color. Lana was favoring her left side, which he'd bet his medical license had at least two bruised ribs.

But the two weren't listening to him anymore. They were moving out the door, chatting lightly, like they hadn't just beat the shit out of each other.

"How's your sister?" Lana asked.

"Kiz is good, Keio's good, Uncle Yoshi's good." They heard him say, before his voice faded down the corridor.

The four men were silent, not sure what to say after all that. McCoy then turned to Kirk, a mocking smile on his face.

"What was that about her falling in love with you?" McCoy drawled.

"Shut up."

"No, seriously." McCoy insisted, holding back a laugh. "It's going to be kind of hard for you to sweep her off her feet, considering Sulu beat you to it. In a very literal sense, of course, but still."

"Shut up, Leonard." Jim muttered darkly, stalking out the door. McCoy drew back at the use of his first name. Damn, Jim must be really pissed off to call him Leonard.

Jim walked through the halls in a very black mood. He didn't know why he was taking this so hard, but the entire situation bothered him. The one girl he couldn't get out of his head was with Sulu. Now, he had a reputation as a ladies man, there was no denying it. He hit on any humanoid classified as female, he did almost anything to get them to say 'yes' (to a drink, to a date, to sex) and he was renowned for his relentless pursuit of women. But no matter how much of a scoundrel he could be, he wasn't going to hit on his friend's girl. Sulu had earned his respect, friendship and loyalty; he wasn't going to mess all that up just for a woman. A very sexy woman. A very sexy, dangerous woman he'd already slept with. A very sexy, dangerous woman he couldn't get out of his head.

Damn.

Jim continued to stalk through the halls, replaying the transporter room scene in his mind. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Something was off. When they'd kissed, there hadn't been any tongue or passion. It was just a brief, tight-lipped kiss. Even with all that sexual innuendo, the two ended up fighting, not fucking. They hadn't seen each other in a long time and their first instinct was to kick the crap out of each other? If _he_ hadn't seen Lana in a while, he wouldn't even let her off the transporter pad; he'd transport them both directly to his room and have her screaming his name in five minutes flat. So what the hell was going on?

Jim Kirk did not give up on the things he wanted. If it turned out they were together and serious, then he'd back off. But not a millisecond before. He was going to get the real story from the only man who knew the truth.

"Computer, location of Lieutenant Sulu." Jim demanded.

"D deck, section 10: mess hall." The computer responded smoothly.

Jim's eyes filled with determination as he entered the turbo-lift and hit the button for D deck.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Next time on Masquerade...Jim learns more about Sulu and Lana's 'relationship' and we finally find out who Lana's mysterious **_**him**_** is.**


	4. Confrontation

**Disclaimer: you know the drill.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim walked down the corridor to the mess hall, purpose in every step. He had no idea what to expect from the upcoming conversation, but he hoped Sulu would say something along the lines of, 'No, Lana and I aren't together and I'd be ecstatic to set you up with her. Bring tulips, they're her favorite.' Too much to hope for? Probably. But he wasn't ready to accept defeat yet, so continued with his absurd wishful thinking.

It was because of his pointless distraction that he ended up bumping into someone who was just exiting the mess hall. A grin spread over his face; as luck would have it, Lana was the unfortunate crash victim.

Lana saw the devilish smirk grow on his face and narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going to put up with this the entire time she was on Enterprise. Oh no, this was going to end _now_. Glancing both directions down the corridor and seeing no one, she hastily grabbed her captain by his upper arm and dragged him through the nearest door. They found themselves in a small storage room filled with food and spices.

"Any particular reason you dragged me into the pantry?" Jim smirked. "Because if you want to have your noisy way with me, I certainly won't stop you."

"God, don't you ever switch off?" Lana asked, exasperated.

"I'll have you know, persistence is one of my most endearing virtues." Jim said loftily.

"The hell it is." Lana snapped. Squaring her shoulders and forcing her body to calm itself, Lana looked Jim in the eye and spoke slowly. "I'm going to tell you this one time and one time only, Malak. What happened that night is absolutely never going to happen again. Do you understand?"

Jim tried to ignore the strange warmth that shot through his chest when she called him Malak and let his gaze wander around the small room. When it was clear she was done talking, he looked back at her with innocent confusion. "Hm? Sorry, did you say something? I have this inner ear problem – very annoying actually. It's called 'selective hearing'. McCoy's looking into it."

Lana had pure fury on her face and growled, "Next time I have to tell you, it'll be with a plasma rifle. Back. Off."

"No." Jim said, with almost giddy delight. Lana clearly wasn't used to back-talk and it gave him distinct pleasure to watch the flush of anger spread to her chest.

Lana, being the brilliant strategist she was, could see Jim Kirk did not respond to threats. She'd just have to think of something else.

"I'm with Hikaru!" she blurted, inwardly groaning. She knew Ru hated pulling the 'pretend boyfriend' routine, but this was getting desperate.

Jim's face fell. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Lana said. The forlorn look on his face made her feel slightly guilty and she continued in a softer tone. "He's talked about you before, you know. He respects you and I think the feeling is mutual. Neither of us wants to hurt him. It was a stupid one night stand and we're both better off forgetting about it. Just let this go."

Looking intently at a box of pasta over her left shoulder, he nodded curtly. "Fine."

"It's for the best." she said, in her best attempt at sympathy. Walking out of the pantry, she couldn't fight off the triumphant grin forming on her face. She'd been on Enterprise for less than half an hour and already had Kirk off her back. It was almost too easy! One problem down, – Lana's expression turned grim at the thought of the unavoidable meeting between her and her bitter past – and one problem to go.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim left the pantry, totally bummed. No, he wasn't heartbroken or even too upset. But he had this strange feeling, like there was supposed to be more to his and Lana's story. It didn't feel right, for this whole thing to end before it even began. Walking straight across the hall into the dining area, he immediately saw Sulu. The younger man was blameless in all of this, but still, he wasn't a person Jim wanted to see right now.

Too late.

"Captain!" Sulu called, flinching as the movement hurt his tender face.

Jim forced a smile and walked up to his helmsman, looking at the food in his hands. "Just a protein bar this morning?"

"Yeah, I have to eat on the run. We have that staff meeting in twenty minutes, remember?"

Crap. He'd forgotten about that. "Of course. Walk with me?"

"Sure." Sulu said, heading out the doors. They walked in silence for a while, Sulu munching on his protein bar. They got on the turbo lift just as he finished his breakfast.

Sulu cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about earlier, Captain. Lana and I should have waited, but it's been a long time since we've sparred. I guess we got a little carried away."

"I'm not gonna complain about a free show." Jim said, a slight edge to his voice. They stepped off the turbo-lift and into the empty conference room, taking their usual seats. "How long have you two been together?"

"Oh god, we're not together." Sulu laughed.

Jim paused, wondering if he'd heard right. "What was that?"

"We're not together." Sulu shrugged. "Never have been. I mean, she's my soul mate – I love her – but we could never be more than just friends."

"But you kissed!"

"So? Friends kiss. Look, don't worry so much about it. No one else gets us, why should you?"

A dark shadow overcame Jim's face. That sneaky, conniving woman had gotten one over on him! Really, how many times had girls pulled out the pretend-boyfriend on him? Damn it, he was slipping! He should have seen right through that! But if that's the way she wanted to play this, then game on.

Jim put on a charming smile. "Enlighten me, Sulu. I should know how close my officers are."

Sulu missed the calculating gleam in Kirk's eye. Instead, he spoke with a nostalgic smile on his face. "Have you ever met someone who just gets you? Without even trying? I'll be the first to admit, I'm not the easiest person to get to know. Neither is Lana, for that matter. But when we met, it was like we'd known each other our whole lives. I've never been so comfortable and so…myself around another person. I know that sounds stupid, but I can't imagine being without her."

Jim still didn't see the big deal. "What's so special about your friendship?"

Sulu thought about it. "I think the reason we work so well together is that we don't push each other. We're both very private. There are certain things that I don't talk about. Lana has things she doesn't talk about, either. And we let that silence be okay and just…accept each other."

"Must be nice."

"For two loners, it means the world." Sulu said plainly, before cracking a smile. "It's going to be great having her on Enterprise."

"It'll certainly be…interesting." Jim drawled. There was a look of pure sin in his heated eyes and upturned lips.

Sulu's eyes narrowed. He knew that look. Everyone on Enterprise, especially the women, knew that look. "You're not interested in her, are you?"

"No!" Jim denied. Sulu gave a look of clear disbelief. Jim Kirk not attracted to a beautiful woman? Yeah, right. "Okay, maybe."

Sulu leaned forward on the long table, shaking his head in clear amusement. "Captain, I say this with all the sensitivity and respect in the world. You have a better chance of singlehandedly making peace with the Klingons than you do of getting with Lana."

First McCoy and now Sulu? Were they seriously questioning his, _his_, skills with women? "Why's that?" Jim growled menacingly.

"It's not a reflection on you. It's just," Sulu paused, struggling to find the right words. "Lana has all the emotional awareness of a grapefruit. She doesn't do relationships. I'm not sure she even understands them all that well."

Jim snorted. Yet another thing they had in common. After all, he was the man who said, 'that is so weird' after hearing 'I love you' from his Academy girlfriend. "Yeah, well we emotionally-crippled geniuses need to stick together."

The doors to the conference room opened with a hiss as Spock and Bonnie entered. His first officer raised an eyebrow. "Are we late?"

"Not at all, have a seat." Jim said, gesturing to their chairs. The two sat down, Bonnie's hand lightly resting on Spock's forearm. After a few minutes, most of the other officers had trailed in, including Lana. McCoy arrived at 0700 sharp, dropping into the seat next to her.

"Hey, Crazy." McCoy greeted her.

"Hey, God Complex." she said without missing a beat.

McCoy snorted and said to no one in particular, "She'll do just fine."

"Once again, your acceptance makes me all gooey on the inside." Lana said sarcastically.

McCoy opened his mouth to mock her back, but Scotty interrupted his dry, witty come-back.

"So, how did you and Sulu meet?"

Lana gave a small smile. "Through Hikaru's great uncle. He's one of the last Kenjutsu masters."

"Kenjutsu?" Jim asked.

"It's a Japanese martial art that employs the sword." Lana explained.

"Fencing." Sulu nut shelled, grinning. Lana rolled her eyes.

"Anyway." she shot Sulu an exasperated look. "Ru had been taking lessons since he was thirteen…"

"And defense training was part of Lana's work as a MACO…"

"The rest is history." they said in creepy twin-speak.

Just then, the conference room doors opened again. In rushed Pavel, pink in the cheeks from running.

"Sorry to be late, Keptin." he apologized, panting slightly while taking his seat.

The light-hearted conversation from just a few moments ago fled Lana's mind. She couldn't feel her heartbeat or inflate her lungs or even blink her eyes. Ugly, terrifying Birds-of-Prey were warping around her stomach; nausea boiled and bubbled up from her core. Everything she'd repressed and ignored from six years ago roared to life in her head like a hissing, malicious flame. Rage, betrayal, pain, and poisonous, soul-killing heartbreak warred for dominance within her. The sight of Pavel Chekov sent her spinning into madness that left her torn. Part of her wanted to leap across the table and strangle him with her bare hands. Another part wanted to scream and rant at him until he finally understood how completely he'd destroyed her. Yet another wanted to bawl in the fetal position and ask the simple question, 'why'. And barely emerging from her subconscious, a small, whispering impulse wanted her to hug him and never let go.

Bonnie inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. Pregnancy was wreaking havoc on her empathic skills, but the emotions of their new tactical officer assaulted her mind like a raging tempest. It was hard to discern individual emotions because they were all being suffocated under a wrath of inconceivable strength.

Spock turned to her, his concern evident only to his wife. "Are you well, Bonnie?"

Bonnie didn't respond. Instead, she grabbed his hand tightly. The overwhelming emotions flowed from her mind into her husband's; he, too, sucked in a ragged breath. The two explored the invading emotions, delving into the complex layers. Projected most strongly were anger and mistrust. Then came the unbearable heartbreak. Then, confusion. Underneath it all was a barely flickering ember of love. The negativity continually threatened to crush and extinguish it, but it endured against all odds. Perhaps most shocking to the couple, though, was that all these powerful emotions were directed at the youngest member of their crew. Pavel Chekov was a just an innocent, young man; there was no way he could inspire such hateful emotions in anyone!

The steady stream of intense feelings trickled to a stop. Soon, all Spock and Bonnie could pick up from Lana's mind was the chanted mantra, _ignore him ignore him ignore him_.

The Vulcan and the empath opened their eyes, their gazes bouncing curiously between Lana and Chekov.

"You okay, Bonnie?" Jim asked.

Bonnie shot Spock a private look and cleared her throat. "Just fine, Captain."

"Alright, then. To business." Jim spoke with authority, starting their meeting. "I'd like to introduce you all to Lieutenant Commander Lana Andre. She'll be our Tactical Officer, Security Chief and third in command after Spock and myself. Commander, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

After the shock of seeing Pavel again, it took a lot of effort for Lana to unclench her jaw and even more for her to get her vocal chords working. "Not much to tell. I've been a MACO for the past six years, specializing in guerilla warfare, hand-to-hand combat and mission operations. I have more experience with ground assault tactics, but after training with Admiral Pike, I'm also well-versed in space warfare strategies."

From the moment she'd heard Lana speak, every feature on Uhura's face showed intense concentration. When Lana had finished her introduction, the younger woman couldn't restrain herself anymore. "Sorry to interrupt, but that's a fascinating accent you have. What is it? Australian mixed with a bit of R-"

"Romanian!" Lana almost yelped. Lana and Uhura's eye were locked on each others, Uhura's showing suspicion and Lana's filled with pleading desperation. Lana tensed in her seat, silently begging the communications officer not to expose her.

"Right." Uhura spoke slowly. "Romanian."

Lana let herself breathe again. She could feel the questioning eyes of her new comrades and changed the subject before anyone could speak. "Maybe now would be a good time to discuss the changes I'd like to make to my department."

Jim stared at Lana, careful to keep his face blank. But internal alarm bells were wailing in his head. Nervous, fearful, fidgety, lack of eye contact…she was lying. She was freaked by something and now she was lying to cover it. He was starting to think his first name for her, Mystery Woman, suited her best. But there wasn't enough to confront her with, so he stored the information away and continued.

"What changes?" he asked neutrally.

She'd spent the past six years avoiding her personal life by focusing on her professional one. With something productive and work-related to concentrate on, a measure of her confidence returned. "For starters, I propose we institute mandatory self-defense classes, both for the senior staff and my security teams."

"Is that really necessary?" McCoy asked.

"There is always at least one senior officer on any given away mission; it only makes sense for each of you to be able to defend yourselves if something goes wrong. As for my security staff, well…if they want a place on my team, they need to be able to do more than just fire a phaser." Lana argued.

"Permission granted." Jim said, not needing a five point plan on the subject. It made sense and it would expand on the skills of his crew. He was sold. "What else?"

She went on, making a smart argument for updating the armory and working with an engineering team to create specialized, high-yield torpedoes. Jim approved her other proposals as well, thinking a tactical officer might not be such a bad thing. Her suggestions were practical and beneficial; he should have thought of them himself, but as captain, he needed to focus on making command decisions, not improving their weapons systems. However, that was her entire job and he trusted her with it already. She seemed like the type of person who was physically incapable of giving less than a hundred percent to her duties.

"Captain, I'm eager to get these projects underway. If there's nothing further?"

Jim smiled. She was also the type of person that couldn't let go of an idea once she'd committed herself to it. "Dismissed, Commander."

Lana was grateful for the chance to escape. Yes, she planned on working toward her objectives, but she could _feel_ Pavel's eyes on her. She had endured it as long as she could, but didn't want to spend any more time around him than was absolutely necessary. With a steady, confident stride, she left the room.

"Captain, request permission to be dismissed." Uhura said, eyes locked on the door. She was already half out of her seat before the Captain said 'granted'. She rushed out of the room, but nobody paid much attention. All eyes were on Spock and Bonnie, who seemed intent on having an argument solely through eyebrow movements. The dancing eyebrows continued for a few moments, before Bonnie burst out with, "Fine!"

Bonnie turned to Chekov and said bluntly, "Pavel, do you know her?"

"Who? Commander Andre?" Pavel asked, stunned. "All due respect to ze lady, but I vould remember someone so…"

"Intense?" suggested Sulu.

"Insane?" McCoy added.

"Arousing?" Scotty threw in. Everyone turned their heads to look at him. "I mean, um…tall?"

"So scary." Pavel concluded sheepishly.

Bonnie shook her head, bringing her eyes up to meet Pavel's. "That woman had a very strong emotional reaction to you, Pavel. Either you really, _really_ remind her of someone…or she knows you."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Lana walked down the hall, the shakes starting to spread from her core. She berated herself for her nerves and _forced_ her body to calm itself. Honestly, it couldn't have gone better if she planned it and here she was, practically falling apart! What was wrong with her? The first meeting was over with and she made it out unscathed. Pavel didn't recognize her – a tiny, miniscule, insignificant part of her was saddened, but she was mentally beating that part of herself to death with a baseball bat. The crew was none the wiser and as long as she avoided Pavel, there was no reason in the universe why anyone ever had to know. Sure, she couldn't completely ignore him. They'd be working on the bridge together; there would be staff meetings, of course, and maybe even away missions. But she could do this. She was Lana Andre, damn it, and Pavel had ruined her life for the last time. She was stuck on Enterprise for god-knows-how-long and the only way she could handle her time here was if Pavel remained blissfully unaware of their connection. But she could manage. She could do this. She _had_ to do this.

Lana's internal pep-talk was cut off by a voice shouting behind her, "Hey! Wait!"

Lana was tempted to speed up and dive into the turbo-lift, but knew she couldn't avoid her crew forever. Lana slowly turned around.

Uhura ran up to her, her long pony tail swinging behind her. She slowed down and eventually stopped just a couple of feet from Lana. "You lied." she said bluntly.

"Lied about what?" Lana asked, hoping to talk her way out of this one.

Uhura narrowed her eyes. "Don't play games with me. You lied to my crew and I want to know why." When it became clear Lana had no intention of responding, Uhura sighed. "Why didn't you tell them you're from Russia?"

Lana winced. That was a truth she'd been avoiding for a while. "It's none of your business."

"You better make it my business, unless you want me to bring my suspicions to the Captain and advise him to investigate the matter _thoroughly_." Uhura threatened.

Any other day and she'd have the upstart chit choking on her own teeth, but she had bigger things to worry about. Lana crossed her arms. "Look, I left home for a reason. Russia's not exactly my favorite place in the galaxy, you know? The last thing I want to do is reminisce about Dear Mother Russia with some…stranger."

Uhura's defensive posture softened slightly. "Pavel's a good kid; you'd like him."

"I'll take your word for it." Lana snorted half-heartedly. "Thanks, by the way. For covering for me back there. You didn't have to do that."

"Don't expect me to do it again." Uhura said curtly, spinning on her heel and walking down the hall.

Lana shook her head and continued on to her quarters, blazing determination in her eyes. She had to believe she could do this, otherwise someone was sure to find out. Uhura was already onto her and the Vulcan and the counselor were giving her strange looks throughout the meeting. Entering her room, she stormed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

Giving herself a hard slap on the cheek, she said harshly, "Get it together! You may not be able to run forever, but you damn well better hide forever! Hikaru thinks you're one person, Kirk thinks you're someone else and if you throw Pavel into the mix, the fall-out is going to be on your head! You don't need that, so for god-sakes, keep it together!"

She braced her arms on either side of the sink, hanging her head and sighing. It was going to take a miracle, but what choice did she have? She'd built her entire identity from scratch, based on one simple truth: she didn't want to have anything in common with the girl Pavel had broken. If he recognized her as that girl, made her _feel_ like that girl again, she might be broken again. The strong, fierce woman she'd become would disappear.

That was unacceptable.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she noticed the small details of her reflection. The slight dimple in her chin, the crinkle between her eyebrows, the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, the natural curl of her hair. It was amazing no one saw through her, for they were all features Pavel shared. She sighed again, voicing the truth one last time before hiding it away in the furthest corner of her mind.

"_You've grown, little brother_." she whispered to herself in Russian. The language felt clumsy and foreign on her tongue.


	5. Let The Games Begin

**Disclaimer: belongs to…someone. Not me.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Lana hunched over the desk in her office, her eyes shifting between several PADDs while making notes on another. Her shift had ended hours before - she glanced at the time and realized she was closer to the start of her next shift than the end of her last one. Shrugging it off, she returned to work. Establishing herself on Enterprise was just the distraction she needed after seeing her brother again…was that two days ago or three? Either way, she'd been working constantly since then: collaborating with Scotty, meeting with her security staff, getting her preliminary physical out of the way, structuring the defense classes and reviewing the overall tactical abilities of the ship and crew. Groping blindly for her coffee cup, eyes never leaving the PADD, she gulped down the rest of the bitter liquid.

It was such a relief, not needing to think. Between fatigue, hunger and work, her mind had no room for Pavel. With so little energy, there wasn't enough to waste on the draining emotions he caused; so many other things were occupying her mind, there wasn't time to dwell on the memories of their childhood, the good or the bad. She'd gone to this extreme a few times before. That first year away from Russia, away from him, she'd pushed herself so hard that she'd been hospitalized twice for exhaustion: once around Pavel's birthday and again, a little after the first anniversary of her leaving home. But since then, she'd gotten a better handle on things. This was just a minor relapse, a temporary stop-gap measure. She knew she couldn't keep it up forever, but needed a few days to get her head on straight.

At least Kirk had backed off; that saved her a headache or two. Thank God Hikaru was on board, for her to use as an excuse! Otherwise she would have had to shoot Kirk to get him to lay off. Or worse, she might have given in. She had the feeling that, with James T. Kirk doing the chasing, a girl couldn't out-run him forever. Oh, she would have tried. But he had one tactical advantage over her: he was already in her system. Like a drug coursing through her veins and making her body crave more, the memory of that night with him tortured her. Before she found out who her mysterious Malak was, how many times had she touched herself, pretending her hands were his? How many times had she imagined the weight of him on top of her again and fantasized about the feeling of him inside her? How often had she hit the gym after thinking of him, trying to suffocate her burning lust with physical exhaustion? But all that changed when she met him again, this time as Captain Kirk. Now he was her commanding officer, nothing more and nothing less. But especially nothing more.

Unfortunately for Lana, though, Jim had other plans. He'd come to realize his pursuit of the wonderfully complicated weapons officer would not be a subtle wooing, a whirlwind romance or even a sultry dance around and toward each other. No, it would be a knock-down, drag-out, no-holds-barred war. She would fight him, tooth and nail, every step of the way. She had set the tone herself by lying to him about being with Hikaru. So, as his first officer would say, logic would dictate that this war be fought guerilla style. No rules, no mercy and no giving up. Jim grinned to himself as he walked to Lana's office. This was going to be fun.

Lana heard the chime from her door and called out distractedly, "Come in!"

She looked up from her work, for the first time in what seemed like hours, and saw Kirk. She groaned, her head falling to the desk.

Jim frowned. "Not the greeting I was hoping for."

"Captain, whatever clever thing you're going to say to try and get in my panties, I wish you wouldn't bother." she said tiredly, running a hand through her hair.

Jim held his hands in front of him. "Hey, you're Sulu's girlfriend. That's off limits in my book. I swear, I won't try anything." _Today_, he mentally added.

Lana's posture changed; she became less defensive and more relaxed. Jim smirked inwardly. He wasn't above using her own lie against her; this was war, after all. It got her to loosen up around him and that was enough for now.

"I came to check on your progress." he continued. "You've got a lot of projects on your plate and I'd like to stay updated with the changes you're making."

"Oh." Lana said, surprised. She gathered some of the PADDs scattered across her desk and chose to start with the defense classes. She handed him the work she'd done on it so far. "Well, I've organized training sessions every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for the senior staff and every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday for my security teams. I've developed a time line for the goals I'd like everyone to reach and I've decided to incorporate elements of Kenjutsu, Sambo and Suus Mahna."

"Isn't Suus Mahna a Vulcan martial art?" Kirk asked, glancing up from the PADD.

"In order to achieve the rank of major in the MACOs, you have to be proficient in two Terran forms of defense and one alien martial art. I chose this one." she shrugged.

"And Sambo?"

"It's a lesser known fighting technique." she replied. Actually, it was the official martial art of Russia, but he didn't need to know that.

The two talked through the rest of the plans, the minutes turning into hours. It was a genuine collaboration of two great tactical minds and neither noticed how quickly time was passing. Together, they solidified her plans for the armory, improved on her designs for more powerful torpedoes, debated the merits of blades versus phasers, and developed new evasive maneuvers to program into the computer. It was the most stimulating, exciting conversation either could remember having, not to mention the most productive. They challenged each other at every turn, bringing out the best of their creativity and planning.

At the moment, Lana was arguing against one of his suggestions and he found himself tuning out of the conversation, choosing to focus on her instead. She was talking with her hands, her eyes brighter than he'd ever seen them. Her intensity seemed to fill up the room, her energy resonating off of him and making his whole body hum with excitement. There was a pink tint to her cheeks as she passionately argued her point – he couldn't for the life of him remember what that point was. He rested his chin in his hand, smiling like an idiot as she got up out of her chair and started to pace. Her gestures became wilder, her voice got louder and Jim's smile got bigger.

"You have such a sexy brain." Jim murmured, not even aware he'd spoken out loud.

Lana stopped her pacing and turned, looking at him strangely. She pursed her lips together to suppress a smile, her face turning even redder before gut-bucket, infectious laughter escaped her. It was a full on laugh-attack; she clutched her stomach, moisture gathered at her eyes and her whole body shook with her never ending giggles. Jim couldn't help but join in and soon there was no stopping it. Lana had to lean against the desk to support herself and Jim was doubled over in his chair as he laughed. She couldn't even look at him without starting another wave of hysterics and Jim couldn't tell if he was laughing at the incredibly stupid, random thing he'd said or the sight of the tough, fearless MACO reduced to a puddle of highly amused goo over him.

Eventually, the laughter trickled to a stop, just short chuckles and snorts escaping them now.

"God, you're so weird." Lana laughed. "How you ever convinced me to go home with you, I'll never know."

If Lana's guard was down enough for them to talk about that night, Jim was going to take full advantage of it. "It didn't take a lot of convincing, Delilah; we both wanted it."

"Yeah, I guess." Lana admitted, suppressing a shiver that coursed up her spine at the intimate nickname. What was it about that name that broke down every wall she had?

Then Jim voiced the question that had been plaguing him for over a month. "Why did you go home with me? It was your first time and you spent it with a stranger."

"I, uh…I couldn't let myself go there before. Not as myself, anyway." Lana shrugged uncomfortably. This conversation was getting too deep and too personal, especially since she was talking to her captain. How could she keep forgetting that Malak didn't exist? The man in front of her was Jim Kirk and damn him for making her forget that. "Look, my shift starts in a couple of hours. I should probably get cleaned up and grab a bite to eat."

And the moment was over. But, it was progress nonetheless. A small battle, but a victorious one. Instinctively, Jim knew she would retreat into herself and try to avoid him after this brief bout of honesty. Really, they were two very screwed up people. The parts of themselves they'd named Malak and Delilah wanted to be together and worked so well with each other; it was Jim and Lana that were getting in the way. Lana may be able to avoid Malak, but she couldn't avoid Jim. He wouldn't let her.

"Sounds good." Jim said, standing. "We made a lot of great progress today and I'd like to be involved in these projects every step of the way. Keep me updated."

"Yes, Sir." she responded curtly, also standing. Lana led him to the door and then he was gone.

After the door closed behind him, Lana breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was good that they'd talked about their one night stand. Closure on that part of their relationship was definitely a good thing. Now they could move forward as colleagues without the sexual tension and wonderings of what-might-have-been. Once again, she thanked her lucky stars for Hikaru. Kirk thought she was spoken for and that would keep him at bay long enough for her to kill the tingling sensation that ran through her body every time those blue eyes settled on her.

Hopefully.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

After Lana had showered and changed, she called Hikaru on the comm. and they decided to meet up for breakfast. They spent the first part of their meal in silence, the quiet being more comfortable to them than speaking. However, as Lana thought on Jim and Pavel, she decided she wanted a little inside information.

"Tell me about the bridge crew." Lana said, never one to mince words with Hikaru. "If I'm going to be around them on a daily basis, I need a strategic edge."

Sulu snorted and rolled his eyes. "Lana, we're talking about social interaction, not battle."

"Oh, please." she said dryly. "Every moment in life is a battle. The ones you can fight with weapons and fists and cunning – the ones you can actually win – they're easy compared to the rest. Now dish."

"So, combat battles are easier than personal ones?" Sulu asked incredulously.

"Don't act so surprised. You know its true." she shrugged. "Tell me about them so I know what to expect."

"You're a disaster, but I love you." he said fondly. "Well, let's see. First, there's Spock…"

Sulu talked about each of the bridge crew in some detail, which Lana reduced to one word associations in her mind. Spock – Vulcan (enough said). Uhura – feisty (but she already knew that). McCoy – cynical (no shit). Scotty – eccentric (which she loved about him). Bonnie – empath (she wished she knew that one earlier). Kirk – well, she couldn't break him down to just one word.

"He's reckless, but I swear, it's like the odds bend to his will." Sulu was saying. "No matter what crazy stunt he pulls, everything comes up roses for him in the end. That includes women, so I'd be careful if I were you."

"That's a non-issue." Lana replied. "I already got him off my back by telling him I was with you."

"You did WHAT?" Sulu yelled.

"What?" Lana asked, taken aback by his reaction. "We do it all the time when we go out!"

Sulu's head fell into his hands. "I really wish you would have told me. I already told the captain we were just friends."

"When?" came the cautious question.

"Before the staff meeting."

Lana's eyes narrowed dangerously. That lying, manipulative bastard! He twisted her own cover story to get closer to her! She'd let down her guard, thinking she was safe from his attempts at seduction. Oh my god, she'd actually talked about that night with him! And he was still chasing her! Oh. He was _so_ in for it. He had no idea who he was messing with. She was going to turn his world upside-down, backwards and inside-out before she was done.

"Lana." Sulu said carefully, recognizing the anger and determination in her eyes. "I know you're probably thinking about castrating him but half the female population of San Francisco would be out for your blood."

"Too crude. This calls for psychological warfare. I'm going to _wreck_ that man from the inside out – get him wound so tight, I'll break him like a glass window." she growled.

"Well, you have fun." Sulu smiled, knowing Kirk wouldn't just roll over and play dead. After all, what were friends for, if not one's personal amusement? This was going to be very entertaining.

They ate in silence, Lana's thoughts eventually turning from Kirk to Pavel. He was the one crew member Sulu hadn't talked about and hard as she tried, she couldn't restrain herself from asking about him.

"What about the kid?"

"What kid? Oh, you mean Pavel." Sulu frowned. "Don't call him that. He's eighteen now."

"That's pretty young to be out in space." she said casually. "Does he ever talk about home?"

"Are you kidding? Russia's his favorite subject! Give him any concept or invention and he'll tell you how the Russians thought of it first." Sulu grinned.

"No, I didn't mean his country. To be so young and away from Earth, he must get homesick. Does he ever talk about his home or…his family?" she asked, holding her breath.

"Come to think of it…no." Sulu responded, surprised by his own answer.

"Figures." Lana muttered. Hirkaru's eyes were questioning, so she hastily added, "Well, you told me he's a genius. Geniuses don't come from happy homes. Why else would they throw themselves so fully into their studies?"

"Well, if he grew up in bad circumstances, you'd never know it by looking at him. He's sweet, shy, funny, brilliant and just…happy." Sulu said, a slight smile on his face as he thought of the young ensign.

Lana studied his face – the wistfulness, the small but genuine smile, the slight longing. Their relationship had its quirks and what Sulu told Kirk was true: there were certain things they didn't talk about with each other…ever. Lana never talked about her family or her life before the MACOs. Sulu never talked about his father or his romantic relationships. But after knowing him for four years, Lana knew his preferences. There was no stigma attached to being gay anymore, but Hikaru was a deeply private man. Even if he was straight, he wouldn't talk about his relationships or sexuality. In his mind, it was no one's business but his. That's why Lana was reluctant to break their truce of silence, but she could see his interest in Pavel and it worried her greatly.

"Be careful." Lana said softly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hikaru demanded.

"You care about him."

"I care about all my crew." he said stubbornly, knowing where she was going with this.

"Look, Ru, that kid…he's not as innocent as he looks. He could hurt you." Lana said.

"Pavel?" Sulu said incredulously. "He's about as dangerous as a Tarcalian pygmy kitten." Lana opened her mouth to argue, but Sulu said sharply, "Drop it, Lana. You don't even know him."

She tried to argue again, but suddenly drew back, her eyes wide. "You're right. I don't know him." _Not anymore_.

"Well, here's your chance." Sulu challenged, watching Pavel walk through the mess-hall door and head for their table.

Lana nearly groaned at her bad luck. Murphy's Law was a constant in the universe, but for an impartial rule of nature, it really seemed to have it out for her. Lana stood up so quickly, her chair toppled over. She hastily righted it and blurted, "I gotta go."

She speed-walked out of the room, her pace just shy of full-on running. Pavel and Hikaru each looked after her, innocent confusion in Pavel's eyes while Hikaru's were clouded with deep suspicion. Lana didn't run from anything or anyone; he knew that as well as he knew his own name. At first, he'd written off Bonnie's notion of her knowing Pavel, but it was the only explanation that fit her strange behavior. After all, there was a lot he didn't know about her. But if Pavel was involved, he was sure as hell going to find out.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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	6. Back and Forth

**Disclaimer: doesn't belong to me.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The more Lana thought about her delicious revenge against the oh-so-cocky Captain Kirk, the less certain she was about the whole thing. Did he deserve it? Definitely. Could she do it? Damn straight. But there-in lay the problem. She was a trained soldier, yes, but throughout her military career, she'd remained an avid student. Her first love had always been history, but she devoured any text that made her better at her job. That included psychology and, well, in that respect, Jim was an easy target. She could absolutely destroy him if she wanted to. She could make him regret ever meeting her…but for some reason, she felt her heart twinge with some unidentifiable emotion at the thought. So, she put her 'sexy brain' to work and decided on the next best thing: she would psychologically torture him until he was convinced he was losing his mind...in a playful, only semi-threatening way, of course.

Lana's plan of action was based on a very simple premise: if the way into a man's heart is through his stomach, then the way into a man's head is through his sex drive. Especially if that man was Jim Kirk. True, she'd never flirted a day in her life, but that was child's play compared to what she had in mind. Lana Andre, if nothing else, was a very physical being. She knew her body and was in touch with her own sexuality; after all, you don't get to be a 25-year old virgin without knowing how to get yourself off. She could be seductive and, while she preferred to bulldoze the enemy, she could also attack very…very…subtly. She grinned to herself as she walked into the captain's mess; he wouldn't know what hit him until it was already too late.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

He was going crazy. It was the only explanation. Sitting in the captain's chair, Jim ran a hand through his hair for the twentieth time, frazzled and jittery. Maybe it was because he hadn't had sex in weeks, not since he met Lana for the second time. That had to be it; his mind was playing tricks on him because he wanted her so badly. He scrubbed his face with both hands, ignoring the slight stubble that had grown, and thought over the past week. Every time he was around her, his traitorous brain would conjure up fantasies based on nothing at all.

It all started with dinner in the captain's mess. He'd invited Spock and Lana, hoping to solidify their command team and start a tentative friendship between the two. Everything had gone fine until dessert: Boston cream pie, his favorite. She'd looked down at the brown and white jiggley confection with suspicion, poking it with her fork. When he'd asked her what was wrong, she told him she'd never eaten Boston cream pie before. He assured her she was in for a treat.

If only he'd thrown that plate against the wall.

He watched as she bit into the delicious pastry and soon, he couldn't look away. Her eyes widened, then fluttered closed in ecstatic pleasure. A small moan escaped, deep and rumbling from the back of her throat. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; he knew _that_ moan. Lana then slowly, so slowly, removed the fork from her mouth and lightly bit her bottom lip. There was a small dot of cream at the corner her mouth. Eyes still closed, she touched the top of her Cupid's bow lip, running a finger down to the edge of her mouth and gathering the cream onto the tip. Jim had a spontaneous coughing fit, which ended abruptly as she put the cream in her mouth. She didn't just lick her finger, oh no, she _devoured_ it. Her mouth parted just wide enough to let the tip of her finger in and she sucked the cream off, her finger emerging slightly wet. Finally, she opened her eyes.

"Good?" Jim asked tightly, willing his hard-on to go down.

"Sinful." she said, those powerful eyes on him as she licked her lips. But before he knew it, the moment was over. With her professional face on, she continued. "Thank you for dinner, Captain, but I have an appointment with my security staff in twenty minutes. Enjoy your dessert, gentlemen."

She swept from the room and Jim glanced at Spock, wondering if the Vulcan was as stunned he was. But Spock was taking a sip of his water, looking as though nothing odd had happened. Had he imagined the whole thing? Or eroticized it in his mind? Jim tried to shake off the incident, eyes downcast toward his plate.

Jim snapped out of his reminiscing and returned to reality, looking around the bridge and wondering if anyone had noticed him spacing out like that. Everyone was performing their duties and they were warping through space with nothing interesting to distract him. Soon, he drifted into his memory again, reliving each of the dozens of moments like the one at dinner. Lana stretching in her office while they worked on projects, her shirt riding up past her midriff and _that_ moan escaping her again. The throaty, sensual laugh she gave Ensign Cupcake at the tactical station on the bridge. The heated looks he would see from the corner of his eye, only to turn around and find her concentrating on her work. The time she spilled coffee on her uniform shirt, stripping it off without another thought. The red shirt dragged the black undershirt with it until just below her breasts, when she pulled the stained shirt over her head and straightened out the form-fitting black one. Each time, she didn't react at all, like it was perfectly natural to strip in front of her captain and half the armory staff.

He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, forehead resting on his interlocked hands, his legs bouncing spastically. It had to be his imagination. No one else seemed to find it strange, hence the fear for his sanity.

"Captain." Spock called, watching his friend practically fall apart in his seat. When Jim turned his head around, a vague 'hm?' escaping his mouth, Spock walked to his side. Bending down, Spock spoke quietly. "Jim, there is nothing of interest along our course for the moment. Perhaps you should rest. I will call you, should anything of note arise."

God bless his perceptive first officer. "Thanks, Spock. I just…I feel like I'm going nuts!"

Spock glanced over Jim's shoulder at their tactical officer. "I can't imagine why." he deadpanned. Spock was all too aware of the strain between Lana and his Captain. It had started in the Captain's private mess and had only escalated in the days since. Vulcan's may not express emotions but they were highly sensitive to them and Jim and Lana were creating so much sexual tension, he almost expected the bulkheads to buckle under the strain.

Jim didn't respond to his first officer and, more than likely, hadn't even heard him. Instead, he rose from his chair and walked to the turbo-lift in a daze.

Lana followed him with her eyes, a predatory gleam sparkling in her gray orbs. Honest to god, she hadn't had this much fun in years: stalking her prey, sizing him up, attacking his weaknesses and making that pretty boy pay for messing with her…good times. Although, she frowned, he was looking a bit ragged these days. Maybe she should stop; he'd learned his lesson. But the temptation was too great and she decided on one last hurrah before she let the game go. She slid into the turbo-lift just as the doors were about to close.

Jim stifled a groan. Not her, not now!

"Captain, are you feeling alright?" she asked, something like concern in her voice.

"Fine." he choked out, eyes facing forward.

"Captain." she said sternly. "I've heard about your disdain of all things medical. As your security chief, you're well-being is my highest priority!"

His eyes widened in panic as she moved to stand in front of him. _Too close, way too close_! "What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

"Making sure you're okay." she responded simply. She inched closer to him and put her cool hand on his forehead. He leaned into her touch slightly, his eyes falling closed and a sigh escaping him. She let her hand linger there for a moment, then slid it down his face to his cheek.

"Well, you don't feel warm." she said, having a hard time keeping a straight face. Going in for the kill, she moved her hand slowly down his neck and it came to rest on his chest, as though she was checking his heartbeat. Funny thing, though, she felt her own heartbeat going crazy at the contact.

Jim's was too, so she figured her job here was done. Removing her hand from him and moving to stand side by side again, she did her best to stifle a smirk and said evenly, "You're heartbeat is a little fast. Maybe you should go see McCoy."

Jim could barely breathe; she had been so close to him. He could actually _smell_ the intoxicating scent attached to her skin and the unrecognizable aroma in her hair. Vanilla, maybe? Wherever her hand moved, he could feel its affect, like small electric shocks running under his skin. There was no way she wasn't affected this time. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction and his entire body went still.

Her head was down, her hair partially covering her face, but there was no mistaking it: she was _smirking_. Or fighting a smirk, anyway. His eyes snapped to the front, his mind whirling. No. No, it wasn't possible. No one could be that devious (except him, of course). To pull off a week-long charade of sexual subtlety and strategic attacks without the actions ever being questioned would take a diabolical genius! She couldn't pull this off! He paused and reminded himself just who he was dealing with. His eyes narrowed, all the tension of the past week boiling to the surface.

"You've been playing me." he said with deceptive calm.

Lana swallowed, her eyes widening. "Excuse me?"

He didn't respond, but turned to face her. There was fury and heat in his eyes, the look making even her slightly afraid.

Before she had time to contemplate the consequences or think of a way out of the situation, she found herself pinned between the wall of the turbo-lift and Jim's hard, hot, raging body. His lips were on her in a second, but one could hardly call it a kiss. It was an angry and lethal battle, fought with mouths instead of munitions. His tongue invaded her mouth and she forced it back into his own, chasing it there with her tongue. His arms went around her waist, squeezing her tightly. Hers went around his neck, clawing at his back with her nails. On some level, they both knew what this was: a challenge to see who would break first. And so far, neither was budging. Jim slid his lips across hers, firm and warm, nipping at her lip. Lana sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and ran her tongue across the bruising flesh. There was complete silence in the turbo-lift, for the slightest sound of pleasure would concede defeat.

Jim called on every ounce of skill and every memory from their night together, wanting, _needing_ her to break first. It wasn't just about what she'd put him through the past week, but making her see how great they could be together. They may not be on the same page emotionally or mentally, but not even she could deny that they were completely in tune physically.

And then he remembered it. That night, she bit down on a scream when he'd raked his nails slowly up her ass. That was her Achilles heel, her sweet spot, something that got her going no matter what; every girl had one and he just found Lana's. Moving one of his hands past her waist, he dipped it beneath the waistline of her pants and underwear to the curve of her derriere and ran his fingernails slowly back up to her waist.

She cried out into his mouth.

He smirked against her lips.

Now that the victor had been decided, Jim slowed his pace. The frenzied, angry passion from before was fantastic, but couldn't be sustained forever. He moved sensually into her mouth, tasting and exploring every crevice. They would pause every now and again, just breathing against each other, before falling back into the kiss. Neither could help it, nor could they fight it. It was so good, so right, their minds shut off and they just let themselves _feel_.

It was a shame, though, that they'd forgotten the setting of their little make-out session.

The hiss of the turbo-lift doors opening shocked them back to reality. Both turned wide eyes to the hallway. It was empty…except for McCoy, who was standing right outside the doors.

Lana felt anger well up inside her. This is exactly why she didn't want to get involved with Kirk. She could just see it now: the whispers, the pointing and the subtle glares. _There goes the Captain's newest fling. She's sleeping her way to the top. That's Lana Andre: Tactical Officer, Security Chief and Captain's Whore._ She'd endured gossip like that before and would _never_ be put in that position again.

She pushed Kirk away from her, screaming, "Get off me, you ass!"

Then she punched him square in the jaw.

McCoy was laughing so hard he could barely stand up, but Lana stalked toward him and grabbed his shirt in her fists, murder in her eyes. McCoy sobered up real quick.

"McCoy, I realize you're a doctor, but if you tell anybody about this, I'll hurt you in ways you can't fix." she growled, pushing him away from her and storming down the corridor.

McCoy and Jim both stared after her. "Jim, I'll never understand what you see in that psycho."

Jim turned to McCoy, looking shocked. "You didn't think that was hot?"

Bones stared. "No, Jim. Just…no."

Both glanced back to the hallway, watching as Lana got further and further away. A dopey smile formed on Jim's face and he held his now aching jaw. "That woman's in love with me."

"You are so twisted." Bones said, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The next time it happened was in the pantry. 'Sentimental reasons', Jim told Lana. They both approached this new development in different ways. Jim had the strategic advantage and they both knew it. He was on the offensive and his goal was to corner her as many times as possible until she admitted there was something between them. Lana's plan was all defensive tactics. Obviously, physical violence didn't deter him in the slightest. So she would try retreat.

When she tried to leave the pantry, he grabbed her arm, pulled her into a kiss, and she was lost. So much for retreat.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Next, she tried to ignore him, which was like trying to ignore a six foot gnat buzzing around her ear.

They were in her office, discussing various projects when his hand reached for her.

"So, as you can see (she batted his hand away), the armory is in much better shape (she pushed at his chest as he approached her). I'd like to do a field test for the new torpedoes if you (bat) can find a (bat) small, lifeless moon along our course. Or maybe an asteroid belt (push). We can adjust the blast yield (shove) in less than a minute, if our goal is to disable (kick to the shin) rather than destroy. They're a bit more temperamental (bat) than I'd like, but I'll work with Scotty (stomp on his foot) on it."

But in the end, he'd batted _her_ hand away and they ended up making out on a chair, with her straddling him.

The door to her office chimed. She flew off Jim's lap and to the other side of the room before he could blink. Running a hand through her hair and fixing her shirt she called, "Come in!"

"Lana, what's your problem with Pav-" Sulu stormed into the room, intent on getting answers. He'd been observing them both all week, but couldn't figure out why Pavel bothered her so much. It took him a second to take in the scene. Lana was staring at him with wide eyes and puffy, moist lips. Jim was sitting casually in the chair, his legs crossed while he ran a hand over his mouth. And he was wearing Kirk Smirk #6: the victory smirk.

Oh.

Sulu immediately turned around and walked out of the room, like he hadn't seen a thing. Before Jim could convince her to pick up where they left off, she'd hauled him out of the chair, practically thrown him from the room, and then locked the door.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Lana was burning the midnight oil in the armory after another sleepless night. This time, it wasn't Pavel that was plaguing her thoughts, it was Malak. Jim. Captain Kirk. Whatever, the point is, he was starting to get to her! His lips on hers, his hands on her body, his hard-on pressing against her inner thigh through layers of clothes…it was consuming her every waking thought. She snorted. Who was she kidding? She dreamt of him, too. Why couldn't he just let this go? More importantly, why couldn't she fight him off? And the most horrifying question of all: why didn't she want him to stop?

She knew why he kept kissing her. It was the same reason she kept kissing him back. It was too good to resist. The only thing she couldn't figure out was what he wanted from her. Where was all this going?

"Ugh." she groaned in the empty room. Too many questions, too few answers and too little sleep made for a very strained Lana.

Lana heard someone walk into the armory and figured it was her right-hand man on the security staff. The armory was practically his home and the two had spent many a late night in here, working on one thing or another.

"Cupcake, can you hand me a hyperspanner?" she called out. Unfortunately for the ensign, once the story had gotten out about Captain Kirk's fight with him years ago, the nickname stuck.

The man approached her from behind and got way too close for comfort, whispering in her ear, "Pet names, already? And here I thought we'd settled on Malak."

"Jim…" she started, fatigue in her voice.

"Jim works too." he smirked, turning her around and planting a short kiss on her lips. "I'll also accept baby, sweetheart, man o' mine, and hot stuff. Whatever you feel comfortable with."

Despite her overworked brain, she couldn't help smiling a little. "I am never _ever_ calling you hot stuff."

"I'll wear you down." he said huskily, capturing her lips with his own. The familiar friction built up between them and she parted her lips, inviting him in. He entered her slowly, savoring the taste and feel of her tongue sliding against his. He groaned into the kiss as she lightly bit his bottom lip. Over the past week of kissing her and touching her every chance he got, he'd gotten really friendly with his right hand. He'd never done the whole 'cold shower' bit; she had him wound so tight, he had to have release, which led to a lot of one-on-none action. But they'd developed an easy rapport with each other and she was finally getting comfortable with his presence. Maybe it was time to raise the stakes.

Slipping a hand under her shirt, he inched his way up to her breast. Cupping it and massaging the already hard peak, her moans got louder. Her body moved on instinct, desperate for what her mind refused to acknowledge, and she started to grind her hips against him. Moving slowly down her neck, he sucked at her pulse point, loving the pounding just beneath the skin that confirmed how much she wanted him. His hand switched to her other breast, while his other hand cupped her ass, pressing her closer to him.

And then her body went still. "Stop. Just…just stop." she said quietly.

Jim drew back. He knew there was always a hint of reluctance on her part, but this was the first time she'd ever told him to stop.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

Her head was tilted to the side and she wouldn't look at him. "Let's say you keep chasing me." she said, in that unnaturally quiet voice. "For the sake of argument, let's say you even catch me. What then?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" she asked incredulously, pushing him back just enough to have a little space. She ran a hand through her hair, looking him in the eye. "I mean, why are you doing this? Kissing me all the time? Is it to screw with my head? Is it for sex? What do you want out of this? A fling? A girlfriend? A future ex-girlfriend? What?"

"What, I'm supposed to have all the answers?" he shot back.

"Hell yes!" she shouted. "You've done nothing but pursue me ever since I got on-board, so yeah, I expect a few answers!"

"Well I don't have any!" he yelled back. "Can't you just live in the moment?"

She took a step back, looking at him in amazed shock. "You're unbelievable. You've worked so hard at getting me and you don't even know why."

He took a step closer and grabbed her hand. "I know why. We…connect."

"From what I've heard, you've 'connected' with lots of girls. I won't be another notch for you, especially if we have to work together."

"I want you." he said bluntly. "On what level, to what end, I don't know. But I _do_ know I've never felt like this about anyone before. I don't know what this pull between us is, but I'll keep chasing you until we figure it out!"

She shook her head. "If you haven't thought beyond the chase, then clearly that's all this was. Go find another piece of tail and leave me alone."

"Delilah." he said desperately, hoping to appeal to that side of her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we can't be together!" she answered. "Malak, you're my Captain, for god sakes! Yes, we had something before Enterprise and maybe that could have turned into something more. But things are different now."

"Look, you can't just-"

"Captain Kirk, report to the conference room." Uhura's voice crackled over the comm.

Never taking his eyes off Lana, he flipped open his comm. device. "What is it?" he asked tightly.

"Admiral Pike is waiting to speak with you."

"Understood." he sighed. Giving Lana a hard look, he said, "This isn't over."

"Yes, Malak. It is." she said back. He looked ready to stay and argue, but she said, "Go."

And he did. He didn't have a choice. Jim walked through the hall, shaking his head every now and again, wondering what the hell just happened. Things were going fine; they were kissing and then they were yelling at each other and then they were breaking up, if you could even call it that. So what if he didn't know what he wanted out of this? He wanted her, wasn't that enough? He felt something strong for her, something stronger than he'd ever felt before. He couldn't put a name to it, but did that really matter?

Entering the conference room, he practically fell into the seat. He heaved one more sigh before activating the computer monitor.

"Captain. How's Enterprise?" Pike asked politely.

"Fine." he said. "With all due respect, Admiral, I'm not really in the mood for small talk. What do you need?"

Pike bowed his head. "Jim, we've lost contact with the U.S.S. Yashiro and the Resolute was found destroyed two days ago. There was a Klingon weapons signature present on the debris. The Empire says they didn't sanction the actions, but I'm taking that with a grain of salt. Since you're close to Klingon territory, I wanted to give you a heads-up."

"I'll tell Lana…Commander Andre to go to Yellow Alert and run constant tactical simulations." Jim nodded.

"That's something else I wanted to talk to you about." Pike added, grimacing. "You know Star Fleet is reluctant to regulate the personal lives of its officers, but Jim…you can't be involved with her."

"Excuse me? What do you know about it?" Jim questioned angrily.

"Jim, I was captain of your ship, for however brief a time. You don't think I stay in contact with some of my old crew? Look, I get it. She's a beautiful woman and you're a young man, but you're captain now! A captain's life is meant to be lonely; it's the only way we can get things done."

"I have my own way of doing things." Jim argued. "A captain is supposed to keep a professional distance from his crew, but my senior staff is practically my family and we work better than any crew in the history of Star Fleet because of it!"

Pike sighed, knowing Jim wouldn't listen. "Just think about it." he said, before terminating the transmission.

Jim snorted. As if he'd be able to think of anything else. Massaging his throbbing temples for a moment, he knew only one person could help him see things clearly. He headed out of the room, making his way toward Sickbay.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Will Lana and Jim get back together? Will Jim take Admiral Pike's advice? What will McCoy tell Jim? What about the emerging Klingon threat? The answers…on the next installment of **_**Masquerade**_**. **

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	7. Revealed

**Disclaimer: same old song and dance. Don't sue.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

In Jim's opinion, Bones was the best kept secret on Enterprise. If the rest of the ship knew what he did about Leonard McCoy, the good doctor would never get a moment's peace; because under his abrasive exterior, razor-sharp tongue and love for needle-related sadism, that man _knew_ people. It wasn't a developed skill, but an innate insight that never failed to leave Jim stunned. In fact, a large part of McCoy's cynical world view was because he understood human nature all too well. Most of the endless, annoying masses had the outright inability to hold themselves up to a mirror and accept the honest reflection; Leonard McCoy was both baffled and disgusted by such false illusions and had no tolerance for people who indulged in them.

If Jim wanted to gently awaken into a greater understanding of himself, he'd see Bonnie. But when life demanded nothing less than a harsh reality check that'd kick him straight in the ass, Bones would always be his first stop. And right now, he was in desperate need of his friend's unique brand of advice.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was a quiet day in sickbay, with nothing urgent requiring McCoy's presence. Instead, he was working on one of his many pet projects. At this moment, it was a cure for the Lorentian Plague. It was the kind of work that consumed him in the most satisfying way, which is why he scowled when he heard the doors to sickbay open. McCoy looked up from the eyepiece of the electron microscope with a glare and his eyes came to rest on Jim. The glowering look was immediately replaced by a pensive, slightly concerned expression. He'd only seen this look on Jim's face a handful of times, but each instance stuck in his mind like a marker of time. Four years ago: Jim's first serious girlfriend cheated on him. Two and a half years ago: his mother got remarried. Two years ago: he took the Kobayashi-Maru and got his first taste of failure. One year ago: Bonnie was taken. Without a word, the doctor abandoned his work and walked toward his office, Jim following quietly behind him.

McCoy stood by the door of his office, closing it behind Jim and then moving around his desk.

"Let me guess." he started, lowering himself into his chair. "This is about your lady friend."

Jim didn't answer right away and just paced the length of the small office. In an instant, though, he stopped in his tracks and faced McCoy. "Women are crazy."

"What a stunning pearl of wisdom." McCoy deadpanned.

"No, seriously." Jim insisted, his voice rife with frustration. He resumed his pacing. "No woman, in the history of the universe, can go from point A to point B without stopping at Q, W, and G along the way! There we were in the armory, making out and having a good time. Everything's fine, right? Wrong! She starts yelling at me out of nowhere! Something about, 'where was this all going' and 'I'm not going to be just another lay'. Where the hell was all that coming from, anyway? Maybe I shouldn't even try! It's not like we're good for each other. You had it right from the start; she's crazy! Violent, devious, dangerous, mysterious, and emotionally retarded…Bonnie would have a field day with this one! We've been playing this cat and mouse game for weeks and she's got me so twisted up, I'm not even sure which one of us is the cat anymore! Am I the cat? Are we both cats? Dammit, Bones, is there even a cat? And the only time we're real with each other is when we're in character as Malak and Delilah! That's not normal! Sometimes I'm not even sure if I actually _like_ her, but I can't override the instinct to have her! I just keep chasing her against my better judgment! She's making me crazy!"

After Jim's rant, the room was silent apart from his own heavy breathing. McCoy was just staring at him like _he_ was the crazy one. The silence stretched on, making Jim squirm under his friend's eerily neutral gaze.

"Let me get this straight." McCoy started, speaking very slowly. "You're – surprised? – that you're in a messed up relationship."

"Um…yeah?" Jim answered uncertainly.

"Jim…" McCoy shook his head in disbelief. "You're _in_ this relationship. How can it be anything _but_ messed up?"

Jim opened his mouth to argue, but McCoy cut him off. "Don't get me wrong. I agree with everything you said about Crazy. She's not really even human – more like a walking, talking collection of psychological pathologies – but still, you're not in a position to cast stones here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim asked defensively.

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose, saying 'wow' under his breath. "Look, Jim, I love you like a brother. You know that, right? But you're so fucked up, I'm amazed you can dress yourself in the morning. Your mommy issues could fill up this entire ship and your daddy issues aren't far behind. You rebel against all forms of authority, yet you've become the highest authority on this ship. You haven't accomplished a single thing in this life unless it was posed to you as a challenge. You have the world's longest running case of survivor's guilt; nearly every stupid, suicidal thing you do is an attempt to alleviate some of that guilt and prove that you're worthy of the life your father died to give you. And, on top of it all, you have this irrational belief in the core of your being that tells you you're going to die alone. You are massively, undeniably messed up, my friend. And Crazy? She's a total whack-job. But together, you might be crazy enough to actually make something _real_ out of all this. Believe me, the conventional way isn't all its cracked up to be. I did things the conventional way and what has it gotten me? Nothing but Satan herself as an ex-wife and a daughter I've never seen."

It was a very surreal experience, having his deep-seated issues brought to his conscious attention and broken down so quickly. Jim felt like he was floating outside of his body. The voice that came out of his mouth didn't even sound like his."Am I…am I really that messed up?"

To McCoy, he sounded like a little boy looking for approval and the next words out of his mouth could either crush or encourage him. So he did what had always worked for him: he told the truth. "Yeah, Jim. You are. And if you weren't, I probably wouldn't be friends with you. Better crazy than boring, I always say. Normal is overrated. So, you're a disaster area. So am I, but do you see me giving two shits about it? No. At least you've got what counts. You have character and depth, common sense and courage, and a staunch refusal to just blindly accept whatever life gives you. You've got life by the short ones and you make the world conform to _you_, not the other way around. You've got baggage that would cripple most people and yet you make it work for you, not against you. And you know what? It's made you the best Captain in Star Fleet history. At 25, no less. Embrace your imperfections, kid. They're as much _you_ as the good stuff."

Throughout McCoy's speech, Jim's smile grew. This is why he came to Bones. The doctor had the natural ability to make a person feel at home in their own skin and make them accept things they'd been running from their whole life. And McCoy was right. Everything he'd accomplished was due just as much to his flaws as the rest of him. He wouldn't be _him_ without his flaws! Wouldn't it be easier just to accept that fact, rather than deny it? As soon as the thought entered his head, he felt lighter, freer.

"Thanks, Bones."

"Anytime, kid." he smiled. "So what are you going to do about Lana?"

Jim smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. But everything will work out."

"Glad to hear it. Now get out of here, I've got work to do." Bones said, making a beeline for the electron microscope.

Jim grinned at his friend's retreating back and walked out of sickbay, repressing the absurd desire to skip down the halls. He could barely remember what he was so worried about in the first place. It would all be fine in the end. Jim walked into his room and stripped off his uniform, settling into the bed. His head hit the pillow and he drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim started the next day with renewed determination and energy. Slipping on his uniform shirt, he asked the computer, "Location of Commander Andre?"

"E Deck, Section 27: Gymnasium." The computer responded.

"Right. Defense classes." he muttered to himself. Checking the clock, he realized the class didn't start for another half hour. Plenty of time.

Walking determinedly down the corridors, he didn't have a plan of seduction in mind this time. After all, that blew up in his face pretty badly. No, he would do what he did best: he'd wing it. But first things first. Business would have to take precedent today. The Klingons represented a genuine tactical threat and, with the destruction of at least one Federation ship, they were making a new kind of play here. Klingons employed a strange mix of stealth and brute force in their attacks, but never shied away from a fight. Pike had sent him reports of the recent events and he'd read them thoroughly. Whoever was attacking their ships wasn't declaring war, challenging the Federation or even taking credit for their work. No; they came, attacked quietly and efficiently, then disappeared without a trace.

It was enough to have any captain on a hair-trigger.

When he reached the doors to the gymnasium, he heard quiet strains of music from beyond the steel entrance. Straightening his shirt, he entered and the music saturated and vibrated through the large room. Jim got three steps into the door before his feet stopped working. Lana stood on the far side of the gym and Jim's eyes travelled up her body. She had on black work-out pants that looked as though they'd been painted onto her body; they drew absolute attention to her long, shapely legs. Her toned stomach was left entirely exposed and she wore only a black bra-top. He hadn't seen this much of her exposed skin since they were naked on his bed. Forcing his eyes past her chest, he saw that her curly hair was up in a pony-tail and she had a blindfold tied around her eyes.

She turned her body so her back was to him and he noticed a large tattoo covering her left shoulder. Tattoos had been out of style for centuries, but the dark ink held his rapt fascination. It was a phoenix rising up from a bright flame, but the bird was unlike any phoenix from myth. It was dark and grotesque. Its beak was parted, exposing razor-sharp teeth and Jim could imagine a jarring screech coming from the animal. Its talons were crusted with brown-red blood and its wings were still on fire. The artist somehow made its red eyes hold rage and pain. And scrawled in the fire, the words looking like they were about to turn to ash, was the question, 'But what will rise from the ashes?' How had he never seen it before? Then again, the only time he'd seen her without a shirt, her back was always pressed against something. A moment later, her body shifted again and the tattoo was hidden from his sight.

As intriguing as the tattoo was, there was no time to dwell on the ink; as soon as she turned, he noticed the sword.

Her body was moving gracefully in time with the music, each step measured and purposeful, each swing of the sword fluid and deadly. The music began to speed up, the drums and bass pounding in his ears. The refined dance of danger progressed to a display of power and control. The sharp metal parted the air with a dangerous sound as the sword's arcs became wider and more lethal with every pass. She looked like a conductor of some hazardous symphony, her sword keeping perfect time with the beat. The music swelled even louder, her voice joining the tempo of her body. Grunts started to sound at every thrust of the sword and yells accompanied the sound of the blade as she sliced at the air. His heart hammered in his chest as he heard a crescendo grow and felt the intensity flowing from Lana like sweat. The last chord and a scream sounded through the room as Lana's weapon tore through the air at the point where an invisible opponent's head might be.

"God-damn, she's gorgeous." he whispered to himself.

Lana threw her sword on the metal floor with a loud clatter and ripped off her blindfold. Breathing heavily, her hands on her hips, she rested her forehead against the mirror that ran the length of the back wall.

Jim started clapping and she spun around. "That was pretty impressive."

"Thanks." she panted, still catching her breath. She glanced at the clock. "You're early. Class doesn't start for another twenty minutes."

"We need to talk." he said. Lana got a look in her eyes like a cornered animal and he hastily added, "Not about that! Pike called to warn me about a developing Klingon threat and I wanted to run it by you."

Her body sagged in relief; give her Klingons, give her Romulans, but don't make her have the 'us' conversation with Jim Kirk. She walked over to the weight station and sat down on the work out bench. Jim followed and sat beside her, giving her the details of Pike's report. She nodded every once in a while, but mostly listened. This new situation had her worried for two reasons: one, their defenses were comparable to those of the U.S.S. Resolute. If they were attacked in the same, unknown method, they could meet the same fate. And two…Kirk. Since arriving on Enterprise, she'd read over countless mission reports from Enterprise's first year in service. She'd noticed a disturbing pattern: Kirk had risked his own life (stupidly, in her opinion) dozens of times. That would not fly on her watch. The captain stays on the bridge; he doesn't go on suicidal away missions, not while she's tactical officer anyway. She would need a plan to address both issues.

After Jim was done briefing her on the situation, she nodded seriously. "I'll inform my security teams and have them running constant drills. We should also stay at Yellow Alert until further notice."

"My thoughts exactly." Jim agreed. There was silence between them and just when both were starting to get antsy, the door to the gym opened again. Sulu, Chekov, Uhura and Scotty entered together. If they thought it was odd for the Captain and tactical officer to be sitting hip-to-hip alone in the gym, they didn't say anything. Instead, everyone just chatted lightly until Spock and McCoy showed up. When all the senior staff was present and lined up (excluding Bonnie), Lana stood in front of them.

"Welcome to Defense 101, everybody. In this class, you'll learn defense techniques from several different martial art forms, including Kenjutsu, Suus Mahna and Sambo. Now-"

"Sambo!" Pavel cried excitedly. "Zat is a Russian martial art! My Papa vas wery skilled at Sambo."

Lana squeezed her eyes shut and tried to control her breathing. It was bad enough being around Pavel, but now he was bringing up Papa, too. Struggling to regain her composure, she said tightly, "That's great. Maybe you have a natural talent for it. Now, moving on, I've decided to pair you up based on experience. Chekov and Uhura, neither of you have experience, so you'll be working together. Don't worry, we'll build your skills from the ground up and soon, you'll be ready for anything that gets thrown your way. Scotty and McCoy, same to you. Sulu, you'll be paired with Captain Kirk. Both of you are quite advanced and working together will keep your skills honed. And Mr. Spock, you'll be paired with me."

"Pardon me, Commander, but that is unwise." Spock stated, noticing Lana's eyes narrow. "Vulcans possess superior strength to humans. It would not be a fair test of either of our skills."

"Thank you for trying to protect my fragile sensibilities, but I'll manage." she said through gritted teeth. "Who knows, maybe I'll even challenge you."

"That is doubtful." Spock argued. "Perhaps I should be paired with Captain Kirk."

Sulu was shaking his head, muttering 'bad, very bad' as Lana walked slowly toward Spock. "You are paired with me." she said unyieldingly.

"Commander-" Spock's voice was cut off as Lana brought her hand to Spock's shoulder and pinched the trapezius nerve bundle. It took a few seconds to take effect, but Spock slumped to the floor. The room was deadly silent. Lana walked back to the front of the room like nothing happened.

"Many martial arts teach that physical strength is subject to the concentration of energy. This principle allows human beings to punch through two inches of solid wood, break cinderblocks with only a head-butt and perform amazing feats of super-human strength. It even allows humans to employ the Vulcan Neck Pinch, with enough study and practice devoted to the art of Suus Mahna. Someday you may find yourself fighting Klingons, the strongest warriors in our quadrant. Or Romulans, with strength equal to a Vulcan's. But if you pay attention in this class, you will be able to use their size and strength against them. Now…are we ready to begin?"

"Is he going to be okay?" Uhura asked, glancing at Spock.

"I didn't do it very hard. He should be up and about it a couple of minutes." Lana answered dismissively. "Alright, first we're going to learn the basics of defense: blocking."

The class was hard at work by the time Spock woke up. He gave Lana a subtle glare, which she returned. After straightening out Uhura's elbow for the proper positioning, she approached Spock.

"You can't be too mad at me, Spock." she said quietly, so that only he could hear. "I read an interesting report recently. Seems you did the same to Kirk after _he_ started arguing too much. Just be glad I didn't maroon you, too."

Spock could not argue with her logic and repressed his pride enough to be impressed with her technique. He was about to ask who had taught her Suus Mahna, but noticed her attention was focused intently on Chekov.

"My father vas a champion fighter in Russia! He taught students from all over ze vorld how to fight vith ze grace and power only a Russian can possess!" he said excitedly, practicing over exaggerated fighting moves in the mirror. Lana felt the veins in her neck tense and tried without success to suppress her anger and annoyance. Pavel was barely over a year old when Papa died. Every word out of his mouth was just a regurgitation of the stories she'd told him. What right did he have to repeat her stories and share her memories with strangers? He was stealing her memories, claiming them as his own and leaving her completely out of the picture.

"Once, Papa fought a man who vas flirting vith my mother. He knocked out ze other man viz a single punch! Maybe I vill be zat good someday…" Lana could feel her blood pressure rise as he continued to babble about things he didn't understand. Her patience was wearing thin and she could feel her insides shake with fury. How dare he mention their father with such familiarity? How could he talk about Papa without even mentioning her? She was his only connection to their father; she was the one who made him feel connected to a man he never knew!

Finally, Lana had had enough. If she had to endure one more minute of this, then God help her, she would not be responsible for the body count. Her self-control snapped and she marched up to where the two beginners were practicing. Uhura was concentrating on her own image as she practiced the blocks in the mirror, but Chekov was chatting idly next to her and only half-heartedly mimicking her movements. Lana got between them and clapped her hands in front of Chekov's face.

"Pay attention, Pasha!" she snapped. "This could save your life someday!"

The movement of their fellow officers slowed and then stopped as they took in her words. Lana went to walk away, but felt a light, restraining touch on her arm. Her eyes travelled slowly up the arm holding her to Chekov's questioning face and she scowled. She was just about to _really_ lay into him, when he spoke.

"Did you just call me Pasha?" he asked in astonishment.

Her entire body went still and her thoughts played out on her face for all to see. Did she? Could she really have been so careless? She searched her memory and her eyes fell shut in realization. She _did_ call him Pasha. Anger made her face flush and she cursed under her breath. She'd been so worried about someone else exposing her, she never thought she'd be stupid enough to do this to herself! But if she acted quickly, maybe the situation could be salvaged.

She wrenched herself from his grip and walked back in front of the class. "Just a slip of the tongue, Ensign. Get back to work, everyone!"

But no one moved. Then, mustering his courage, Chekov stepped forward and came to stand in front of Lana. Her jaw was clenching and unclenching and she refused to look Pavel in the eye. He studied her face for a long time, what seemed like hours to Lana, and finally her eyes met his for a split second.

The moment his green eyes locked on her gray ones, Pavel gasped and he said something that sounded like, "Sees-tra."

Uhura gasped too. Scotty looked at her and whispered, "What did he say?"

"He said…sister." Uhura whispered back, loud enough for all the men to hear. They turned their undivided attention to Pavel and Lana.

"Ilana?" Pavel whispered brokenly. "Ilana, is that really you?"

"Don't call me that." she snarled, jerking away from him.

A beautiful, teary smile came on Pavel's face. "It is you!" He approached her and tried to hug her; she pushed him back, making him stumble slightly and causing hurt to flash over his face.

"I'm part of a past you want nothing to do with, Pavel." she growled. "You've made that _quite_ clear. I say we just go on ignoring each other. Seems to have worked well for the past six years, don't you think?"

"But…but Ilana…I missed you." he admitted, sounding so small.

"You don't get to miss me!" she yelled. "Not when you did this to both of us!"

He stared at her, crushed and horror-stricken, before collapsing on the ground in tears. Sobs racked his small frame, but Lana stood unmoved. She'd been in that same position so many times after what he'd done. Still, it wasn't a sight she wanted to see and she turned away. Looking at her crew, what she saw in their eyes made her want to join Pavel on the floor. The anger and accusation in their eyes pierced her body like daggars. Of course they'd be mad at her. From their perspective, she'd hurt their _precious_ Pavel. If only they knew…

She snorted humorlessly, the sound echoing like a scream across the room. She sat down next to Pavel and he stared up at her with watery eyes. But she wasn't looking at him; she was looking at the crew and he moved to look at them too.

"Isn't this familiar?" she asked him tonelessly. "They look at me with disgust and you with sympathy. You'll always be innocent in their eyes." Her voice hardened slightly. "But not in mine. I know what you can do to the people who love you most. I can only hope you care enough about this crew not to do to them what you did to me."

"I could never." Pavel whispered.

"Why don't I believe you?" she shook her head sadly. Standing up, she looked down on her brother and spoke flatly. "There is no Pavel and Ilana and there hasn't been for a long time. We're not family. We're not friends. We're not anything to each other, not anymore. We're just two strangers serving on the same ship. I want nothing to do with you, Pavel. Stay out of my way."

Lana walked out of the room and Pavel curled into himself on the unforgiving metal floor and cried in horrible, heart-wrenching sobs. The crew was frozen in place, still in shock. Then Sulu moved forward a couple of steps before stopping again. He kept looking between Pavel and the doors to the gym. Jim saw his dilemma and stepped next to the helmsman.

"Stay with Pavel; he needs you. I'll talk to Lana." Sulu nodded, sinking to the floor next to his friend and letting the young man cry into his shirt.

Jim stared at the scene for a moment before barking, "Dismissed!"

The rest of the crew scattered from the room, not needing to be told twice. As for Jim, he stalked through the doors toward Lana's quarters. He knew he should be more concerned about Pavel, but he was in good hands with Sulu. Besides, he and Lana were more alike than either cared to admit; he could tell from the flatness of her voice and dullness of her eyes that she wasn't as unaffected as she pretended to be. She was forcing everything down until she could deal with it in private; after all, that's what he would do. But she didn't get to have privacy, not after what he'd just seen. She'd made Pavel cry. All the senior staff had a soft spot for the kid and it was almost inconceivable that he'd done anything to make Lana hate him so much. But he also knew, as harsh as Lana could be, she wouldn't react so strongly to him unless there was a damn good reason. Jim, for one, was very interested to know what that reason was.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Next Chapter: we find out what happened between Pavel and Lana six years ago while Jim and Lana get a little closer. **

**Read and Review!**


	8. Beautiful Fall Out

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Trek 2009 except the DVD.**

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Jim pressed the call button to Lana's door once, twice, three times. No answer. Anger rose up from his core and he expelled it in staccato bursts of air from his nostrils. She was freezing him out, now of all times? Sure, they'd played games and circled each other for weeks, but this wasn't a game anymore. This was real and people were hurt, namely her and Pavel. As her captain, if nothing else, he deserved answers!

"Lana, its Jim. Open up!" he yelled, pounding his fist on the door.

One moment his fist was hitting solid steel and the next, it passed through nothing but air. Lana stood half-hidden by the door-jamb, clinging to it with a strong, white-knuckle grip. Jim sucked in a breath at the sight of her. He'd be less concerned if her eyes were rimmed red from crying and tear tracks marked her cheeks, but instead she looked broken. Her face had paled considerably, her eyelids blinked heavily as if staying conscious was a burden, and the gray eyes that drew people to her were lifeless and empty. Lana Andre, or whatever her real name was, lived with passion and had always seemed larger than life. Now she was just…small.

"I didn't think you were going to let me in." Jim said softly.

"Whatever else we've got going on, Jim, I'd like to think we're friends." Lana said, her voice flat and tired.

"We are." Jim said, just realizing it himself.

"Besides, I need to talk to you anyway." Lana stepped to the side and Jim took it as an invitation to enter.

"About?" he prompted, taking a seat at her desk chair.

Lana's posture straightened and her demeanor held a fraction of her usual determination, but it was something. "Captain, request permission for a transfer." Before he could voice his judgment one way or another, she continued in a rush. "The boys told me you and Colonel Trelvik hit it off; it would be easy enough for the two of us to switch posts. He's an excellent tactical officer with decades of experi-"

"Request denied." Jim said firmly.

Her shoulders slumped and she sat down across from him on the bed. She scrubbed her face with her hands, looking worn but unsurprised. "How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because it's the same thing you would say in my position." Jim countered. "Personal problems have no place on my bridge, but I'm not going to let you take the easy way out. You'll just have to find another way of dealing with this."

"I'm open to suggestions." she said with a self-deprecating tilt to her lips.

"I have a tan, slightly freckled, remarkably water-resistant shoulder if you need it." he offered, smiling.

She chuckled and shook her head. "Do I look like the kind of person that bursts into tears?"

He shrugged. "Everyone has to at some point or another."

"Really." she said with flat disbelief. "When was the last time you cried?"

"I'm a bad example." Jim said, rolling his eyes at himself.

"People like us always are." she gave a slight smile. "We have different ways of coping. I, for one, convert all my emotions into anger and then beat my rage out on someone's face."

"I channel all of mine into acts of defiance." Jim put in casually. The two smiled at each other, sharing a moment as two kindred, if fucked up, spirits. But, as always, the moment had to end and the two were left in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but rather contemplative.

"So…" Jim started. "Ilana, huh?"

She shook her head, the fatigue emerging again and becoming more noticeable. "Never thought I'd hear that name again. Or at least I hoped."

"So that really is your name."

"Not anymore. I changed it when I was nineteen. Ilana Nastassja Chekov became Lana Natasha Andre and I never looked back."

And then Jim voiced the question, the one all this was leading to anyway. "What happened between you and Pavel?"

Lana sighed heavily and didn't even consider not answering or lying. The time for those things had passed. She stayed silent, not knowing what she was going to say until words were coming out of her mouth almost without conscious thought. "Do you know what the most toxic, slow-killing emotion in existence is?" she asked, swallowing tightly. "Shame. He was ashamed of me. Embarrassed by me. Maybe even disgusted, I don't know. And in the end…he left."

"Why?"

And then the words were flowing unchecked and unedited, the entire story falling from her lips.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Papa died vhen I vas one." Pavel was saying, curled up on Sulu's lap. His hand still had a firm grip on the helmsman's shirt and his voice was hoarse and uneven from crying. Sulu was running a comforting hand over Pavel's back, silently encouraging him. "Mama loved him so madly, her dewotion bordered on obsession; she only had a family because he vanted one. After he died, it vas like she vas trying to kill herself vithout actually committing suicide. She vould drink and bring men home and ignore Ilana and I. Mama only loved Papa and zere vasn't enough left over for us. But zat vas okay, because Ilana loved me. She took care of me."

"So what happened to make her-" Sulu cut himself off, not knowing how to gently word the truth.

"Hate me so much?" Pavel finished brokenly. "I…I did something terrible."

"What could you have done that was so bad?" Hikaru asked, no judgment in his tone.

"Ve grew up in a town of less zan 2,000 people and I let it all get to me: ze gossip, ze town, ze other kids making fun of me. Zey may have gotten rid of poverty, var and disease, but nothing can kill small town mentality." Pavel murmured. "Mama vas ze town drunk and…and ze town whore. Zey used to look at Ilana like she vas a whore vaiting to happen. I knew better, I did. Ilana vas kind and caring and shy."

Hikaru snorted. "You sure we're talking about the same person?"

"I don't know how she became ze person she is today, but I know it is because of vhat I did." Pavel whispered, his voice saturated with guilt.

"Tell me." Hikaru insisted gently.

"Vhen I vas 12, I got accepted to a boarding school in St. Petersburg. Ilana vas so proud of me and encouraged me to go. Not zat I needed encouragement. I thought I vas finally free of zat town and its judgment. But zere vas another boy at ze school, Marco; ve grew up together. He told ze entire school about my family and the ridicule vas even vorse zan before. I couldn't take it! I vanted to be normal: I vanted acceptance and friends outside of Ilana, but no. I vas still poor, unfortunate Pavel, veighed down by the shame zey forced on me. I just vanted it all to stop! To be seen for who I vas, not who I vas related to! So…I distanced myself from her. And I regret it every single day."

Hikaru just held him tighter and Pavel buried his face in Sulu's chest, tears making his shirt damp.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"He stopped talking to me; wouldn't return my messages or letters." Lana said flatly, not letting the anger or betrayal show in her voice. "I even went to his school and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't see me. All I got was his voice over the intercom telling me to leave him alone and not come back. And that's exactly what I did. I went home, packed a suitcase, and hitchhiked to Moscow. I used the last of my credits to buy a shuttle ticket; I didn't even look where it was going before I boarded. I didn't care, as long as it was somewhere far. Forty minutes later, I found myself in Perth, Australia and I settled in for the long haul."

"Wow." Jim shook his head, stunned. "That's…quite a story."

"It's been quite a life." she replied. "And I started a new one that day. I left everything behind: my family, my country, my name, my language, my identity. I stepped off that shuttle a completely blank slate. I was lost, but I was also free, if that makes any sense."

"Question is: are you ready to start a third chapter, one where Pavel is back in your life?" Jim asked.

"No." Lana said shortly. "I meant what I said in the gym. He and I are strangers and I'd prefer if it stayed that way."

"You're not even going to give him a chance?" Jim demanded.

"Why should I?" she snapped.

"Because he's your brother! And he's a good man! He made a mistake as a kid and you're going to hold it against him forever?"

"A mistake?" she hissed, her eyes dangerous slits. "Most people, whether age 5 or 50, would _never_ abandon the people they love. What he did was not some childish mistake, it was the result of a flaw in his character!"

Jim's hard stare was equal parts accusation and disappointment. "The day I met Pavel Chekov, he saved my life. Sulu's, too. You should be proud of him."

"I can't!" she shouted desperately.

"Why the hell not?" Jim yelled back.

"Because if I feel anything for him, it will all come back!" she burst out, her voice breaking. "Don't you get it? I _lived_ for him! He was the reason I forced myself out of bed in the morning! He was the reason I cleaned vomit off my mother! He was the reason I could tune out the insults, the harassment, the hateful looks and the gossip! I was only eight when Papa died and Mama lost all but a few of her marbles! I sacrificed my childhood for his because I loved him! That heart aching, soul-consuming kind of love where you feel like you're dying every time that person is sad or upset. I would have given anything to make him happy! I loved him so much and he threw it back in my face. Do you have any idea how completely I shattered after that? Do you?"

He was on the bed in a second, wrapping his arms around her. She tensed in his embrace, but then slumped against him, too drained to fight him. He was mumbling against her hair, whispering some comforting nonsense that she couldn't make out. Her body lost all muscle tension and her eyelids sagged downward; it was a total body fatigue. When she finally she pried her eyes open, she and Jim were lying on the bed and her head was resting on his chest. His fingers were running absentmindedly through her hair and when she turned her head to look at him, his silent stare left the ceiling and came to rest on her. They stayed quiet, just looking at each other. More passed between them in that glance than in entire conversations they'd had with others.

From the way she drew in her next breath, Jim could tell she was getting ready to talk. He just kept touching her hair. "Have you ever been on a long run?" Lana asked.

Jim quirked a small smile at her non-sequitur and nodded. "I ran track and field my first year at the Academy."

"You know when you're running and you've gone faster and further than you ever have before? Your muscles are stretched painfully and your heart is pumping liquid fire; your sides ache and your lungs are burning, but you don't really notice it. All you can hear are your shoes pounding on the ground and your own breath echoing in your ears. You don't have a single thought in your head but the impulse to just keep going. That instinct pumps through your body like adrenaline until you hit the wall and it inexplicably stops. Your body slows and everything you could ignore while you were running crashes down on you. You realize how much you're hurting, how tired you are and it becomes so hard to suck in a single breath. As strong as you felt while you were running, that's how weak you feel once you're forced to stop."

He nodded, understanding exactly what she was talking about. He spoke softly, as though any loud noise or sudden movement would break the fragile peace between them. "It's hard, when you've been running your whole life. If you stop, even for a moment, everything you've been running from catches up and overwhelms you. While you're moving or doing or thinking about something else, anything else, you can forget. But those times when you're alone inside your own head, faced with something much worse than the pain of running, you feel trapped and defenseless and…"

"Panicked." she finished for him, watching him nod. "That's where I'm at right now. I'm hurt and weak and tired and I find myself praying for a coma, just so I can rest. Really _rest_ and not think anymore."

"But it would be here, waiting for you when you woke up." Jim said. "You're a soldier. You know it's better to confront something sooner before it develops into a bigger problem later."

She raised her eyes from his chest to his face and stared, looking at him with the quizzical yet enlightened gaze that comes with revelation. "Why am I like this with you? And why are you like this with me? You know, honest and open and talking about real things?"

Jim shrugged. "Maybe it's because we started out this way. That night set the tone for how we are around each other and we can't shut it off. When I was Malak and you were Delilah, everything was so genuine and for the first time, neither of us had to hide or pretend. I don't know that I've ever been _just me_, except when I was with you. I've always worn one mask or another, you know? Rebel, Captain, Ladies' Man, Lover, Friend, Student, Imperfect Son, whatever. But that night, I got to be someone else. And it turned out that Malak was more of the real me than Jim ever has been."

"I feel the exact same way." she murmured against his chest. "It's like Lana's the mask and Delilah is the woman under it."

"Well, I like you both." Jim grinned sleepily.

"Yeah, I'm pretty crazy about you two, too." she teased back, eyes drifting closed. The emotion of the day caught up with her and soon her breathing was steady and deep. Jim held onto consciousness a minute longer than Lana, just long enough to kiss the top of her head and mumble, "Finally."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**YES! As Jim said, finally! But with two people like Lana and Jim, you know this isn't the end of their rollercoaster ride ;) Stay Tuned, my live studio audience! Read and Review!**


	9. Breakthrough

**Disclaimer: I don't know who this stuff belongs to, but I know it's not me.**

**I'm dedicating this chapter to RogueAngel and miller330 for being my most faithful reviewers. You both review every chapter and I love it! Thanks guys!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Lana's eyes flashed open and her sharp intake of breath was absorbed by the hum of the ship. Her training kicked in, but just as she began to assess the situation, her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her and she recognized the familiar layout of her room. Rising up on her elbow, she looked down and saw Jim sleeping peacefully beside her. Or, she smiled sleepily, partially under her as the case may be. Moving off of his chest carefully and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hand froze as the events of the previous day came rushing back.

Pavel knew. The senior staff knew. Hell, the whole damn crew probably knew by now. Her analytical mind couldn't help itself; it ran through the scenarios likely to result from the incident and Lana worked herself into a panic with every passing thought. She'd be the subject of conversations across the ship, from heads bent together over a mess hall table to those few brave enough to question her themselves. She started breathing harder. Meddlers and empathic, pregnant counselors would try to bring the wayward siblings back together. Her eyes widened. Hikaru might have to choose between them and as close as they were, she guessed he wouldn't pick her. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt like sandpaper. The gossip would be a distraction, one they couldn't afford with the Klingon threat. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest. And worst of all, Pavel would try to fix this. That meant he would talk to her, look at her with those wide and seemingly innocent green eyes, and bring up a past she'd worked so hard to forget. She sucked in a ragged, forced breath and the warm air filling her lungs caused her stomach to churn.

She stood up suddenly, shaking her head. "Stop it, Lana." she whispered to herself. "Just…don't think about it."

Jim mumbled in his sleep and Lana froze. He said something that sounded like 'those are my heads, get your filthy hands off them' and rolled over, falling back to sleep. Lana let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Don't think about him either." Lana muttered, plopping into her desk chair.

She didn't want to think about Jim. Or, more to the point, she didn't want to _over think_ where Jim was concerned. Last night was…was…damn it, why did the English language always fail her when it came to Jim? It was incredible and honest and sleepy and funny and soul-revealing and a million other things she never expected, but despite the rules, regulations and protocols they might be violating, for once she wasn't going to think about the consequences. She wanted this (whatever _this_ was) and the bureaucratic brass at Star Fleet Headquarters could kiss her ass-crack if they didn't like it. She just didn't want to run anymore. She didn't want to run from Pavel or Jim or her past anymore or ever again. She would let the chips fall where they may and deal with it then. At this point in the game, thinking would only get her in trouble.

She glanced at the clock on her desk, realizing that she'd only slept for a few hours. Her shift didn't start for a while, she wasn't hungry and didn't really want to leave the room anyway. Jim's light breathing was strangely comforting and she had an inexplicable desire to be here when he woke up. Maybe it was because she'd left the first time they spent the night together or maybe it was because she wanted to see what would happen when he woke up. Things always looked different in the morning light, after all, and she'd be damned if she knew how Jim would see her after last night's revelations. She hoped he'd meant what he said last night, about liking her, all sides of her. If not…

She shook her head. She was thinking in circles again and getting nowhere. Looking around her desk for something to distract her, her eyes fell on a PADD and she smiled, picking it up. It was a history text she'd been reading for weeks, whenever she had a spare moment. For all her intimidating airs and fighting prowess, she considered herself a student first and foremost. Sometimes her methods of study were very physical, as with her martial arts training. Sometimes they were mentally taxing, like her frequent strategy planning sessions. But this was her favorite type of study: reading, plain and simple. It had always been her retreat, her mental bomb-shelter for when the outside world got to be too much. How many times had she and Pavel holed up in her room, him reading science books and her reading about history, while their mother 'entertained' in the living room?

History was her passion and constant inspiration; she delved into historical texts of her world and alien cultures, gaining insight into current problems by examining problems that had long been solved. Lana knew she was considered a genius in her field and everyone found her ideas and tactics very innovative, but they couldn't be more wrong. Her strategies were based on some of the oldest tricks in the book. History, in its most basic form, was nothing but people recycling the ideas of the past and that's exactly what she did. She was a genius because she saw how situations and solutions from the past could be applied to the technology, politics and battles of the present.

She doubted the current text would offer any incredible insights, but it was interesting nonetheless. It was a book about submarine warfare in the mid-20th century titled, "The Battle of the Atlantic: Ancient Submariners in World War II". As always, she lost herself in the flow of words, letting her thoughts dwell on submarines and ocean battles rather than people and gossip. At the moment, she was absorbed in the tactics of the 'wolf pack'.

_Though submarine warfare had previously been a solitary endeavor, German naval strategists came to embrace the 'wolf pack' as their standard operating procedure. A wolf pack consisted of several U-boats working in concert to detect Allied submarines through sonar. Sonar was an ancient technology that emitted a sound signal carried by the water. When the signal hit an object, the sound wave would be reflected and it would travel back to the emitting source, giving a location on enemy vessels. Attack strategies varied…_

Lana stopped reading, holding perfectly still. After a pause, her eyes swept over the last paragraph again and then went wide with epiphany. For all her intense study, she rarely had to carefully construct her brilliant ideas. They hit her like lightning bolts and each time, she could almost feel the electric pulses of neurons and synapses following the exact path needed to reach an intellectual breakthrough. She called it the 'connect-the-dots affect'. Information would float disconnected in her mind, but a single fact would make them all take shape and come together to form an 'ah-ha' moment.

The only movement on her otherwise immobile form was her eyes darting back in forth as she connected seemingly random pieces of information. Sonar, detection, signal – pulse? – cloak, photons, scattering field – torpedo? – war. Advantage. Advantage. Advantage.

"Oh." she breathed, barely believing what she'd just stumbled on.

Her shock took a back-seat to a sudden well of excitement that bubbled up inside of her. This was it! This was exactly what Enterprise needed! Hell, this was something the entire Federation needed! This would turn the tide in their Cold War with the Klingons! The Klingons would have to completely reinvent their technology to circumvent this advantage!

Lana went to the bed, an excited grin on her face, and climbed on top of Jim's sleeping form. She shook his shoulder, "Jim, wake up! Come on, up and at 'em! Get up, damn it, this is important!"

Jim groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, waving at her to leave him alone. Lana rolled her eyes and couldn't believe she was about to say this. "Wake up…hot stuff."

Jim grinned sleepily, mumbling, "I knew you'd say it eventually."

"Yes, yes, your charms are irresistible." Lana said hurriedly. "Now wake up! I need to talk to you!"

"Lana, as much as I like to wake up with you straddling me, its-" Jim glanced at the clock. "-2:30 in the morning. Can't this wait?"

"I've found a way around the Klingon's cloaking device!" she blurted in a rush, excitement making her bounce on his lap.

"You…what?" Jim said, so stunned all he could do was blink up at her.

"I found a way around it! Well, sort of. I have an idea, I just need someone with the technical know-how to help me on the details."

"I…wow. How did you – Okay, you're going to have to stop dry-humping me if you want me to be capable of speech." Jim said, feeling himself harden as she excitedly, if unknowingly, rode him.

Lana stopped, realizing what she was doing, but was too focused on her Eureka moment to be embarrassed. "Oh. Sorry."

"That's one thing you'll never have to apologize for." Jim grinned, shifting so she was sitting more on his stomach than his crotch. "Just tell me about this idea of yours."

"So I was reading about sonar, right?" she said quickly, talking ninety to nothing as she tried to explain the thought process behind it. "And then it just hit me. We could use the same principle to cut through the cloaking device. I could reprogram one of the high-yield torpedoes to implode rather than explode. The implosion would generate a much greater shockwave, one that would extend nearly a light year. Klingon cloaking devices are a two-pronged defense system: they use photon distortion fields and particle scattering fields. I don't know what substance can be used to illuminate the photons but there has to be one! We find that, infuse the warhead of the torpedo with it, and any Klingon vessels within a light year would be exposed! They'll lose their greatest advantage!"

Jim stayed silent, his eyes moving rapidly as he thought about her plan. A grin broke out on his face as he realized it could be done. It was such a simple approach! How had no one thought of this before? The idiots at Star Fleet Headquarters were busy trying to find an EM frequency or a scanner technology that wasn't deflected by the particle scattering field when the answer was in the photons used to bend light around the ship. Scanners were very passive technology and couldn't breach the scattering field to even get to the photons, but a shockwave could breach the field. If something in that shockwave excited or reacted with those photons, the ship would light up like a Christmas tree!

Jim sat up, took Lana's face in his hands and kissed her hard. To his surprise and immense pleasure, she kissed him back, one hand snaking around his neck while the other gripped his shirt.

"You're so fucking brilliant." he said against her lips, fitting their mouths together at every angle he could think of.

She just moaned in response, slipping her tongue past his lips. Just when Jim was going to lay her on the bed, she gave him a final peck on the lips and grinned. "Let's go find Scotty."

"This is a private party and Scotty's not invited." Jim growled, recapturing her lips. She indulged in the kiss for a few moments before pulling back.

"I meant for the cloak, Jim." she laughed, grabbing his hand and hauling him up. "Come on! If anyone can figure this out, it's Scotty!"

Jim groaned but let himself be dragged behind her. It was impossible to not get swept up in her excitement and he couldn't help getting worked up over it too. If they could develop a prototype, the technology could be used throughout the fleet. When the Klingons realized their stealth technology was practically useless against the Federation, it could keep the Cold War from becoming an active war. Having this defense could open lines of communication between the Federation and the Empire. This could be the first step toward peace!

Jim shook his head as they entered Engineering. Lana was still holding his hand and it attracted a few looks from the crew, but he didn't particularly care and Lana was too absorbed in her new project to even notice.

Lana passed a crewmember and grabbed his arm, a little too tightly in her enthusiasm. "Where's Scotty?" she asked abruptly.

"Jeffries tube 12, section 4!" the young man squeaked, rubbing his arm as she released him and set off for the Jeffries tube system. She opened the hatch to tube 12 and crawled in. Jim was right behind her and loving the view. He was so distracted by the sensual sway of her hips and ass that he almost didn't pick up muttering ahead of them. But his keen ears heard Scotty's unmistakable Scottish brogue, apparently talking to the ship.

"I know ya don't like anyone messin' with your power systems, but it has to be done, luv. We're refittin' ya with some upgraded circuitry and you'll be as spry as the day ya launched!" he chirped happily, sitting in front of an exposed power conduit.

"Scotty!" Lana called, crawling past him and sitting down on his far side. Jim settled in on his other side and Scotty frowned.

"Oi! This is a Jeffries tube, not a nightclub! It's a wee bit crowded in here, doncha think? I'm spending some quality time with my lady, so if you would kindly bugger off-"

"If you would kindly shut up, we'll let you in on the greatest tactical and technological breakthrough since phasers!" Lana interrupted.

"Eh? And what exactly would that be?" Scotty asked, setting his tools aside.

"Something that would make cloaking devices detectable." Jim said. He and Lana filled Scotty in on the idea and he nodded every once in a while.

"It's definitely original." Scotty remarked when they were done. "As far as I know, it's never been done. But I remember reading about something similar in one of the NX missions. It was the Columbia, I think, and they sent an anti-proton feedback pulse along a Narcalian phaser beam. Their phaser technology was basically just concentrated photons."

"So, if we infuse one of the specialized torpedoes with anti-protons, that could illuminate a Klingon ship?" Jim asked, sharing an excited look with Lana.

"Aye. I believe it will." Scotty said, grinning. "But, if you really want to light the bastards up, I'd forgo the torpedo altogether and use the deflector dish instead. We can channel anti-protons from the engines to the dish and that'll give you a pulse that'll extend at least two light-years."

"Scotty, you're a genius!" Lana exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. Crawling back through the Jeffries tube, she called over her shoulder, "What are you guys waiting for? Let's get started!"

They both watched as she crawled away with the graceful rocking of a wild cat on the prowl.

Scotty let out a low whistle. "That's quite the woman you've got there, Captain. Sure you can handle her?"

"No. But the fun part will be finding out." Jim grinned wolfishly, crawling after Lana. Since Jim's ass wasn't nearly as captivating as Lana's, Scotty shook his head and followed his fellow officers.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Pavel took a deep breath; it was a bit shakier on the exhale than he'd like, but as Hikaru had told him, he couldn't afford to wait on this. As the helmsman explained it, Lana didn't just live life: she attacked it. Life was a battle to be planned, fought and won and if Pavel was going to beat a trained soldier at war games, he'd have to strike when she was weakest. Chances were good that she was still too disoriented and distracted by yesterday's events to have her defenses in line. Pavel didn't really understand how simply talking to her had suddenly become a matter of war and tactics, but his best friend knew his sister better than he did. If Hikaru thought this was for the best, then Pavel trusted him.

To be honest, he was still a little shaken himself. He'd searched for Lana for almost five years, ever since he realized what a monumental mistake he'd made. Whenever he thought about it, he could only shake his head at his stupidity and selfishness. He'd placed the opinions of strangers who'd ridiculed him above his sister, the person who raised him. He'd hacked more than a few systems to find her, but there was no mention of Ilana Chekov anywhere. Now he knew why.

Though Lana was different from Ilana in almost every way, so far he'd found at least one thing that had stayed the same. His sister had always viewed the world in terms of black and white, a trait she hadn't lost in her transformation. It was a trait he'd always admired, but now it could prove to be his greatest challenge. In Lana's mind, things that hurt you were bad no matter what the circumstances. He'd hurt her, therefore he was a danger to be avoided. He wasn't sure how to climb out of the hole he'd dug himself into, especially since Lana wasn't going to give him a helping hand. No, if he wanted to make this right and get his sister back, he was on his own.

Stepping through the doors to Engineering, he snapped out of his contemplations and came to an abrupt halt. The entire crew was in a frenzy: running around, shouting orders and questions to each other, and making mad dashes for tools. That wasn't so unusual in and of itself, but they were grinning. Every single one of them had an air of excitement and urgency; they were practically _giddy_!

Deciding to put his curious nature to the side, he continued through the chaotic mesh of people and equipment until he spotted Lana speaking with the Captain and Scotty. She was gesturing wildly, the same maniacal grin on her face as on those of the crew. The Captain and Scotty were nodding along, silly smiles fixed to their faces as well. As he approached, they all turned their backs to him as they concentrated on a set of blueprints on one of the engineering consoles. They continued to animatedly discuss amongst themselves and Pavel almost backed out. Maybe this was a bad time.

But then Lana laughed.

Pavel's heart constricted at the sound. Her laugh, like the rest of her, had changed. When they were younger, her smiles and laughs were subdued and soft. It was as though, even when laughing, she couldn't forget the kind of life they lived. But now, it was uninhibited and lively. She could let herself be happy now. They had both found a way out of the past and he was suddenly burning with curiosity. He wanted to know about her life for the past six years. How did she become a MACO? How did she end up in Australia? Had she ever looked for him? What were her friends like?

It was these thoughts that gave him the courage to continue forward. He walked toward them until he was only two feet away, yet they still hadn't noticed. He cleared his throat, but their conversation drowned the sound.

"Keptin." Pavel said. The three officers turned around; Scotty looked between Pavel and Lana and immediately made excuses, practically running from the uncomfortable situation. "May I have a vord alone vith my sister?"

Jim looked at Lana. She glared at him, a look that clearly said 'leave and you die'. Jim looked at Pavel. His eyes pleaded with Jim to give him this chance to fix things. Jim thanked God for taking Hostile Diplomatic Relations at the Academy. "Whether she wants to have a word with you or not is up to her, but I'll leave you two alone."

His answer seemed to satisfy them both, though Lana was less than pleased at being alone with Pavel.

Ilana had always appreciated directness, so Pavel spoke bluntly. "How can I make zis right?"

"You can't." she said, equally frank.

"I do not accept zat." Pavel said boldly.

"You don't have to, but your stubbornness won't make the facts go away." Lana said, turning back to the blueprints.

A wicked idea suddenly popped into Pavel's head and he grinned. "Give me five minutes or I sing Russian Lullaby at ze top of my lungs."

Lana groaned. She hated that song and Pavel had always sung it annoyingly loud whenever he wanted her attention. But she just shrugged indifferently. "Go ahead and embarrass yourself. What do I care?"

Pavel sucked in a deep breath and started to sing as loudly as possible, his voice echoing of the walls. "WHEN ZE SEAS ARE ROLLING IN-"

Lana clapped a hand over his mouth, cringing at the awful song and Pavel's tone-deaf singing. Yep, just as annoying as she remembered. "Fine. Five minutes. But not now, I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Whatever." she responded. Pavel started to walk away, a smile on his face, when Lana suddenly called his name. He turned around and saw her stony expression. "Don't get your hopes up, little brother. Our talk isn't going to change anything."

She turned back to the blueprints and Pavel walked out of Engineering, not really knowing what to feel.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The senior officers were on the bridge, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of testing their new prototype. After 36 hours of non-stop work, it was finally ready for a trial run.

"Ya realize if this works, we're calling it the Andre Pulse, right lass?" Scotty asked, grinning.

"If it works, you can call it Satan's Flaming Sphincter for all I care." Lana shot back, concentrating on her diagnostics of the deflector dish. "Deflector dish is operating within normal parameters, Captain. We're ready to go."

Jim took a deep breath and blew it out calmly. "Understood. Scotty, light it up."

"Aye, Captain." Scotty said, running his fingertips over the panel controls. "Activating the pulse."

The strong hum vibrated through the hull as the deflector gathered its energy. When it hit critical mass, a blue pulse shot out in a wide circle from Enterprise.

"Tracking the pulse." Sulu said. "Point five light years and still going strong. One light year. Two light years. The pulse is starting to dissipate-"

"Captain." Spock spoke up. "I am detecting anomalous readings approximately 1.3 light years from our current position." He looked at his scans more carefully and raised an eyebrow, turning around in his seat. "It appears our test was more successful than we had anticipated. Not only did the anti-proton pulse go further than expected…it also detected a Klingon Bird Of Prey on an intercept course."

"Red Alert. All hands: this is the Captain." Jim said, standing abruptly. "Battle Stations."


	10. Battle Plans

**Disclaimer: not mine, but I like to play with the characters.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Spock-" Jim started.

"Yes, Captain. On-screen." Spock interrupted, anticipating his captain's orders. Barely a moment passed before the screen came alive with a very unusual picture; Jim bit down on an inappropriate laugh by coughing loudly. The Klingon ship was, for lack of a better word, sparkling. The particles around the ship were twinkling merrily, a rather beautiful shade of sky blue. It was like someone had taken a tube of glitter-glue to the Klingon ship and it now had the cheaply decorated look of costume jewelry or a tacky sequined dress.

"Scotty?" Jim asked, stifling a grin. "Care to explain why this highly intimidating Klingon ship looks like a Christmas tree ornament?"

"Hey, we're operatin' with a new technology here!" Scotty said defensively. "There were bound to be some…unforeseen side-effects. Give me a minute."

As Scotty worked his magic, Spock spoke up. "The Klingon ship is closing, Captain. They'll be within weapons range in approximately four minutes."

"Understood. Do they know we can see them?"

"Unknown. But given the fact they are still cloaked, it is safe to assume that they are unaware of their visibility."

"Well!" Scotty burst out, grinning. "Believe it or not, Captain, the razzle-dazzle is actually a very good thing! We thought the pulse would light up the photons and then dissipate, giving our sensors just a brief flash of a cloaked ship. But the anti-protons have bonded to the photons on an atomic level. To get rid of the uh…shimmerin', they'd have to shut down the cloak and purge the tainted photons. We've just put a serious dent in their stealth technology, not to mention their street-cred. No one's going to be shakin' in their boots when the Klingons come 'round if they look like a damn disco ball!"

"Thank you, Mr. Scott." Jim nodded, crossing his legs and giving off an air of supreme confidence. "Uhura, open a channel to the Klingon ship."

"Channel open, Sir."

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise. Klingon vessel, we are aware of your presence, just as you should be aware of our phasers targeting your ship." Jim nodded to Lana and she followed the order, getting a target-lock on their weapons. "Explain your presence in Federation territory or you will be fired upon."

A beat passed. "No response, Captain." Uhura informed him.

"Captain." Lana interjected. "Klingons respond much better to action than talk. A warning shot across their bow could do wonders in loosening their tongue."

"Do it." The red bolt of energy shot out, missing the Klingon ship by only a few meters.

The crew waited tensely. The tight silence was broken by a beep, followed by Uhura's voice. "They're responding."

"On-screen." The gaily decorated ship was replaced by a hulking Klingon dressed in full battle gear. Even more disturbing than that…he was smiling. Instead of inspiring trust and openness, though, it put the crew of the Enterprise on edge. His jagged, rotting teeth and stretched lips were menacing when combined with the deceit in his eyes. The Klingon clearly wanted to put them at ease (or lure them into a false sense of security), which became even more apparent as he spoke.

"Captain." The Klingon said. That one word was intended to convey a humble and flattering tone of respect, but the Klingon couldn't keep the hints of condescension and vague disgust completely out of his voice. Whatever his agenda, the warrior wanted Kirk to feel secure but was obviously repulsed at having to address a human with deference. "Your reputation precedes you. I am honored to meet such an accomplished warrior. Especially one with such…interesting technology."

"And you are?" Jim asked blandly, ignoring the questioning tone that came with the Klingon's mention of the pulse.

"Forgive me." The Klingon said with exaggerated humility. "I am Captain Koros of the warbird _Batlh_."

"What's your business in Federation space, Captain?" Jim asked amiably, standing and walking toward the screen. His hands were behind his back and Sulu recognized Kirk Smirk #8 on his face: the 'we're-playing-a-game-and-I'm-going-to-win' smirk.

"That is a matter of some delicacy. We represent a growing segment of the Klingon population, one dissatisfied with the current state of affairs. We feel the Council has stretched the Empire too thin by warring with any species we make contact with. In short, Captain…we are here to engage in a dialogue of peace." Koros finished, stretching that unnerving smile even further.

_Well. That was unexpected._ That thought echoed in nearly every Star Fleet officer's mind.

"That's a very noble purpose, Captain Koros." Jim nodded, not believing a word of it. "But as you might have heard, Star Fleet has a guiding principle called the Prime Directive. It forbids us from interfering with the internal affairs of other cultures. If we were to enter into talks with your movement, it could incite a civil war, one the Federation might get dragged into."

Koros huffed and blustered, obviously expecting humans to jump at the chance for peace. "Captain! Peace is the ultimate goal of your Federation! Will you not even consider my offer?"

"I might have." Jim said, the #8 smirk slipping from his face. "Except you approached my ship while cloaked, made no attempts to communicate with us even after _we_ hailed _you_, and I've heard of no such movement within the Klingon Empire. And, on top of all that, I just plain don't trust you."

The Klingon leaned back in his chair and gave Kirk an appraising look. After a few moments of silence, he leaned forward again. "Captain Kirk, do you understand the weight of a Klingon's word?"

Jim looked at Uhura, who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. He looked at Lana, who explained the concept. "A Klingon breaking his word is the ultimate disgrace. He would damn himself in this life – the punishment for breaking a Klingon Word of Honor is exile – and in the next. His soul would be stained with heavy dishonor and he would spend eternity in Gre'thor, their version of Hell."

"Your woman speaks the truth, Kirk. I give you my Word of Honor as a Klingon that I, too, speak the truth when I say we desire peace. I ask permission to beam a diplomatic contingent aboard Enterprise so that we might convince you of our true intent." Koros said, a look in his eyes that none of the Star Fleet officers could identify.

Jim thought carefully before answering. "I need to discuss this with my crew."

"We will be here." Koros replied, ending the transmission.

"Lana, Spock: my ready room." Jim ordered, walking across the bridge and into his office. Once the doors shut behind his second- and third-in-command, Jim jumped into it. "Thoughts?"

"I don't like the idea of Klingons on this ship, Captain." Lana said heatedly. The intimate air that had surrounded the couple for the past few days was gone, replaced by an all-business attitude. "Besides, to beam them aboard we'd have to lower our shields and that's just not going to happen."

"I cannot say I approve of it either, but this vow of honor does not sound like something that we should take lightly. It was certainly not given lightly." Spock countered.

"But do you think they really want peace?" Jim asked. His gut told him that, despite Koros' word, peace wasn't what they were after. But could he afford not to pursue any chance of peace with one of the greatest threats to the Federation?

"The offer did seem insincere at first, but in essence, Captain Koros is willing to risk his soul to make us believe that this prospect is genuine. Logic dictates he would only make such a solemn vow if his offer is true as he claims."

"Or if he knows his soul is already going to hell, with or without a broken Word of Honor." Lana argued. "Captain, Klingon honor is highly subjective. Yes, it's honorable to keep one's word, but he may find it more honorable to destroy the flagship of the fleet and its legendary captain in one fell swoop! He wouldn't be the first person to sacrifice a core principle in pursuit of a higher goal."

Spock's eyes stayed on her face for a moment and then the Vulcan turned to Kirk. "Commander Andre's logic is sound. Perhaps we should contact Star Fleet with this development and proceed according to their judgment."

"It's our lives on the line, not theirs." Jim said. "But at the very least, they can tell us what they know about Captain Koros and this Anti-Council movement, if it exists."

Jim opened his communicator, telling Uhura to contact Admiral Pike and route the transmission to his ready room. There was a pause and her voice crackled back over the line. "Sorry, Captain. The Klingon ship is having a slight engine problem. Nothing serious, but highly ionized warp particles are being vented. It's interfering with our communications array."

Flipping his communicator closed, he shot his two officers a look. "Score one for you, Lana. What are the odds that they'd have engine trouble that would prevent us from contacting Star Fleet?"

"Approximately one in-" Spock started.

"That was a rhetorical question, Spock." Jim rolled his eyes. "They're using a poor man's jamming signal and disguising it as a core malfunction."

"So what's the plan?" Lana asked.

"Well, it's a good bet that these guys are responsible for the Yashiro and the Resolute. If it weren't for the pulse, they could have decloaked right on top of us and opened fire before we even knew they were there."

"But we detected them before they could, so they improvised. To their credit, I never thought Klingons could think so fast on the fly." Lana added.

"At some point, though, they will discover that their ruse has failed." Spock pointed out. "When that happens, it is likely they will attempt to destroy us. Their tactics will simply change from a stealth attack to a more conventional battle."

"So…what? We run?" Lana asked, clearly not liking the idea.

"And let them find another Federation vessel to target? I don't think so." Jim responded. "We need to take them down and quickly, but I don't like the idea of firing first. It could exacerbate our tense relations with the Empire."

"Just tell him no deal." Lana shrugged. "Klingons generally have short, explosive tempers. By turning down his offer, we're insulting his word; them's fighting words. When he fires on us, we'll be more than ready to fire back."

Jim nodded seriously. "When I give the order, hit them with everything we've got."

"Understood, Sir." Lana nodded back.

Spock and Lana followed Jim's lead as he walked back onto the bridge. He gave a short nod to Uhura, who reestablished communication with the Klingon vessel.

"Have you made a decision?" Koros asked, his gruesome smile back in place.

"I have." Jim stated. "You are correct; peace is the highest goal of the Federation. But if we achieve peace with the Klingon Empire, it will be through proper diplomatic channels. I'm not willing to put my ship and crew in jeopardy solely on the word of a single Klingon captain."

Koros was literally shaking with rage. "You doubt my word, you human _p'tahk_?"

"You've given me plenty of reason to." Jim shot back.

The Klingon growled, baring his teeth. "Then may the screams of your dying crew follow you to Hell!"

With that, Koros broke communications and Enterprise shook as weapons fire rained down on the hull. Jim stumbled to his chair and yelled, "Now, Lana!"

Lana's finger was already flying over the tactical console, sending a full spread of torpedoes and firing phasers at every critical system on the enemy ship.

"Shields down to 68 percent, Captain." Spock yelled over the din. "52 percent!"

"Casualties reported on all decks!" Uhura shouted.

"Andre to armory!" Lana said over the comm., still firing at the Klingon ship. "Load two of the high-yield torpedoes and target their weapons! Fire on my order!"

"Can't!" Cupcake screamed back. "That last shot took out the targeting scanners!"

"Then do it manually!" Lana ordered. The seconds passed by interminably slow, as Spock reported the loss of their shields and damage across the ship.

"Ensign Chekov!" Spock yelled, urgency in his tone. "Your console is overloading! Move-"

Time stopped on the bridge. Lana blinked, the simple movement seeming to take minutes. The sparks from damaged equipment flew up in front of her eyes; sound faded into a white-noise buzzing and her vision tunneled on her brother's back. She blinked again and then he was being thrown backwards by the ball of fire that used to be his console. The smell of his charred flesh assaulted her nostrils and the thud of his body smacking lifelessly against the floor echoed in her ears. She could see the mouths of her crew moving slowly and knew they were yelling at Pavel's prone form, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Sulu dove out of his seat and was at the teenager's side in a second, shaking his shoulder and yelling at him. There was some horrible, screeching scream filling the bridge and only her lungs burning for oxygen made her realize it was coming from her.

"Commander Andre!" Cupcake's voice cut into her hazy perceptions. "Waiting on your order!"

"Then for fuck's sake, fire!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. She watched as two torpedoes cut across space and impacted with the Klingon ship. Their weapons were disabled and the firing stopped. But that didn't mean that _their _firing had to stop. Pressing the comm. button, she asked roughly. "How many torpedoes do we have left?"

"Only two, ma'am."

"Target their engines and fire." she said with deadly resolve.

There was a pause. "Yes, ma'am."

Two more torpedoes deployed and struck in rapid succession, only meters from their warp core. Their ship didn't explode, but it certainly wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. As eager as she was to see those bastards light up like a bon fire, part of her was glad; this meant she could kill them all with her bare hands instead. Much more satisfying.

An eerie silence came over the bridge; though the firefight had lasted only a few minutes, they'd almost gotten used to the deafening noise. As always, the captain was the first to recover.

"Get him to sickbay." Jim said to Sulu and Scotty, nodding to Chekov's unconscious body. Pressing a button on his chair-side console, he spoke with authority and calm. "All hands: this is the Captain. All departments: submit damage reports in 30 minutes. Sickbay: send me a casualty report. Senior officers: conference room in 30 minutes. All crew: report to critical sections for damage repairs. That is all."

Lana watched, frozen and helpless, as Scotty and Sulu carried her brother past her station and into the turbo-lift. His face was almost unrecognizable. He was covered in burns and seemed to be bleeding all over. Only the shallow, wheezing breaths escaping his parted lips let her know he was still alive. The turbo-lift doors closed, removing Pavel from her sight. Her eyes drifted back to the view-screen and rage so strong it was almost tangible rose up in her body. The Klingon ship was severely battle-damaged and smoking in several places, but it wasn't enough. They hurt her brother; they _hurt_ him, nearly killed him. Her eyes darted over to Jim and moved up and down his body, visually checking him for injuries. He seemed to be fine. And – she squared her shoulders in determination – he was going to stay that way. With that, Lana made her way over to Spock.

She grabbed Spock's arm and dragged him to the conference room without so much as a by-your-leave. When he tried to shake her loose, she merely tightened her grip and looked at him. The look in her eyes, more than her iron grip, made him follow. The doors shut behind them and Spock calmly took a seat as Lana paced like a caged animal.

"I know you don't like me." Lana started, not even sparing him a glance. "That's fine; I won't be buying you a friendship bracelet any time soon either. But we do have one thing in common: we both care for Jim. Right?"

"I do not claim to know your feelings toward him, but I have developed a respect and…fondness for the captain." Spock agreed.

"Good. Then I need your help to keep him from doing anything stupid."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Clarify."

Lana continued to pace. "Jim has a tendency to put himself in unnecessary danger. But if he puts himself in that situation again, between the two of us, we can stop him."

Spock gave Lana a sharp look. "I will not go against the captain."

"I'm not proposing mutiny, you idiot!" Lana barked, rolling her eyes. "I'm just saying if we form an alliance and stand firmly against whatever suicidal, moronic plan he comes up with, then he'll be less likely to go through with it. The captain shouldn't be going into dangerous situations anyway; it's against Star Fleet protocol."

"Captain Kirk has never been a great follower of rules…nor of logic. I fail to see how we can convince him."

"Between your logic and my threats-slash-feminine wiles-slash-ability to psychologically torture him, he'll cave." Lana insisted.

Spock stood and approached Lana. "I do not believe our attempts will work. However, I am willing to try."

"Good." she said, abruptly walking away and leaving the room. Spock merely quirked an eyebrow and followed her onto the bridge.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Jim was in his ready room, looking over the damage reports. The battle had ended in mutual annihilation; both ships were severely damaged and it was now an old-fashioned space-race to see who could repair what systems before the enemy did. He'd been sending orders to every department of the ship and determining how best to use their man-power when his door chimed.

"Enter." he called.

Sulu entered and Jim set down his PADD, focusing on the helmsmen. "Sulu, how's Chekov?"

Sulu swallowed tightly, looking at the floor. "Critical. McCoy's doing everything he can, but…"

"He'll pull through." Jim said, trying to convey confidence. "Pavel's strong; he may not look it, but he's a fighter."

"I'm not here about Chekov, Sir." Sulu said, not wanting to dwell on Pavel. "I'm here about Lana."

"What about her?"

"She's going to do something rash. Something stupid. You need to stop her."

"Sulu, what are you talking about?" Jim asked, completely baffled.

"Look, I don't know what's been going on between you two and it's really none of my business anyway. But you've been spending a lot of time with her and you might think that you know her. You don't. The Lana you've been getting close to isn't here anymore; this is Wartime-Lana and even worse, Emotional-Wartime-Lana. I've never seen her like this, but Trelvik has and he said it wasn't pretty."

Jim leaned back in his seat and nodded. "Go on."

"Five years ago, before I knew her, the man who recruited her into the MACOs was killed. He was more than a mentor, he was her own personal savior. They were overrun on Kessik V by Klingons who were terrorizing the colony. They were outmanned and outgunned and he was killed. Her rage was the only thing that kept that battle going until reinforcements got there; that's how she climbed the ranks so fast, by carrying the remaining soldiers and winning that battle. It's happening all over again, but this time it's Pavel she's out to avenge. She's going to try and take these Klingons on by herself and you can't let her."

"She can't take on an entire ship." Jim said, shaking his head. "It's not possible."

"Maybe, maybe not. But Lana's going to find a way. This is what she does; this is who she is. She's a soldier and a killer, Captain."

"I've killed people too, Sulu." Jim said softly.

"Exactly!" Sulu burst out. "You've killed people, I've killed people! But Lana's a killer. Believe me, there's a difference."

"It doesn't matter what version of Lana I'm dealing with; I care about her. I'll let her do her job by protecting this ship, but I won't let her do anything reckless."

Sulu heaved a sigh and nodded. "That's all I ask. Just…look out for her. Pavel is hurt and she's not stable right now."

"You think she still loves him?" Jim asked.

"Of course she does." Sulu said simply. "You can't help but love him, even when you hate him."

With that, Sulu walked out the doors and left Jim with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Lana returned to her station on the bridge, fire and unrestrained anger in her eyes. No one on the bridge paid her much attention and that's exactly the way she wanted it. Accessing the sensor array, she ran a brief scan of the Klingon ship, noting the damage of their enemy. She read over a list of damaged systems and a vicious grin broke out on her face as a plan for revenge formed in her mind.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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	11. Ready

**Disclaimer: Still not mine, but I bet you knew that.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

When the senior staff filtered into the conference room half an hour later, Lana was already there. She was sitting calmly in her seat, a deceptively bland smile on her face as she stared intently at the image of the Klingon ship displayed on the computer screen. Sulu sat down next to her, carefully lowing himself into the chair as if any sudden movement would bring her wrath down on him. She may look collected to the untrained eye, but he saw a tightly coiled cobra, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. The others must have sensed it, too, on some unconscious level. They were fidgeting restlessly and avoiding eye contact with each other.

The room breathed a subtle sigh of relief when Jim entered moments later. Even under pressure, his calm and business-like attitude couldn't be shaken; his confident presence dissolved the thick tension in the room and his officers sat up straight, ready to get down to business.

Jim took a seat at the head of the table and observed his staff. They were a bit scratched up, but nothing serious. Lana was the one he was really worried about. Her intensity was suffocating and her body could be compared to a hummingbird's heart: vibrating so quickly under the influence of her powerful rage, it looked unnaturally still. Watching her was like watching a star on the edge of going supernova, the suspended moment right before the stunning, violent blast. She was close to snapping; she was just waiting for the enemy to be right in front of her before she let herself go.

He shook his head; he couldn't worry about that now. "Alright, first things first. McCoy, give me a casualty report."

"Sickbay looks like a god-damned war zone, but my people are keeping up with the triage. Crewman Patenski was killed by the blast in engineering, but he's the only fatality so far. Three of my patients are critical, six are serious and the rest are manageable." McCoy rattled off, frown firmly in place.

"Will Pavel make it?" Bonnie asked, her brow furrowed in concern as her hand unconsciously flew to her belly.

McCoy sighed. "He's got third degree burns over 60 percent of his body, multiple puncture wounds from shrapnel, a collapsed lung, internal bleeding and a skull fracture. We're doing our best, but the next 24 hours will be critical. If he makes it through, he'll have a much better chance of survival."

There was a solemn moment of silence as they contemplated the grim alternative. Jim abruptly broke the loaded quiet, not letting his officers dwell. "Scotty, where are we on repairs?"

"Enterprise is a right mess, Captain, and we're stretchin' ourselves too thin." Scotty said, shaking his head. "We're trying to repair too much too fast and as a result, we're not gettin' very far on anythin'. I think we should pull personnel from other repairs and concentrate on just one area."

"Which one?" Jim asked.

"That depends on our next move." Scotty shrugged. "If we concentrate on the engines, the repairs will take longer than any other system. It'd be dangerous. The Klingons could repair their weapons before we finish and we'd be sittin' ducks. But, on the other hand, we'd be able to move the ship out of harm's way in order to repair everythin' else. We can focus on the weapons systems, like the Klingons most likely are, but all we'll accomplish there is the ability to further disable their ship while ours is still in shambles. Or, we can repair the shields, in which case we'll be protected if the Klingons repair their weapons first. But, without weapons, we couldn't fight back if they knocked out our shields again. It's a nightmare, Captain; there are serious risks no matter what we do."

"Lana?" Jim asked. "From a tactical standpoint, which one provides the greatest benefit with the least amount of risk?"

Lana tore her eyes away from the Klingon ship and turned them to Jim, a small yet devious smile on her face. "We repair the transporters."

"What the hell would that accomplish?" McCoy grumbled.

"Aye! In case ya haven't noticed, we've got bigger problems! The transporters are a non-essential system!" Scotty added.

Her dangerous smile couldn't be shaken, despite their protests. "Exactly. And as a smaller system, the repair time would be…?"

"With the current damage, 'bout half an hour. Why?" Scotty asked, his indignation turning into curiosity.

"Then in half an hour, we could be on our way to resolving this." she said calmly. Seeing their uncomprehending looks, she explained. "In terms of the larger systems, the damage on both ships is about equal. But they have one disadvantage that we don't: their internal sensors are down. With their internal sensors and shields off-line and our transporters operative, we can send someone over there to sabotage any system they come across and incapacitate any Klingon they come by. We'll delay their repairs and cut down their numbers, guaranteeing that Enterprise finishes their repairs first."

Jim stayed silent, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought over her plan. His eyes landed on Sulu for a brief moment, who shot him a desperate look. Lana wanted to do this on her own, that much was obvious. And by 'incapacitate', she probably meant kill. But he couldn't over-look the benefits of her plan. They'd be in the belly of the beast, getting a look at their technology while ripping it apart. Jim suddenly sat ramrod straight. Their technology…

Jim grinned. "That's a good idea, Lana, but I have a better one."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

His grin got wider. "We're going to storm that ship…and then we're going to steal it."

There was silence in the room. "Jim, you gotta be kidding!" McCoy sputtered, absolutely flabbergasted.

"Oh, I'm dead serious." Jim said, smirk in place. "It's basically Lana's plan with a few minor tweaks. Instead of sabotaging their ship, we concentrate on incapacitating the crew. Once they're out, we beam them to our ship and dump them on the nearest planet. We send repair crews to the Bird Of Prey and fly it home, where Star Fleet engineers tear it apart and learn everything they can."

"Your plan is certainly…ambitious." Spock said, a look of concentration on his face. "But it is on shaky ethical ground."

"There's nothing shaky about it." Jim insisted. "We were attacked unprovoked by a Klingon vessel in Federation space. That tells me there's movement in the Empire towards a more active conflict with the Federation. If that's the case, then we have the right to defend ourselves by any means necessary. Most Klingon technology is superior to ours and we need to develop counter-measures. This plan is the most efficient means of developing our defenses and therefore saving countless lives in the future."

"Even by Klingon standards, we're well within our rights." Lana added, eerie calm still in place. "They've killed members of Star Fleet: aboard the Resolute, the Yashiro and our own ship. That is an act of war among Klingon Houses and the appropriate, expected response is for the victimized House to fight back and forcibly take compensation for their losses; it's the same with large-scale warfare, too. We could kill the crew, take the ship and the Empire's own Code of Honor would validate our actions. Of course, they'd fight back as expected, but we'd already have the advantage."

"We won't be killing anyone." Jim said sharply. Lana just met his eyes and stared back, an unsettling smile on her face.

"Of course not, Sir. That would be wrong." she said, her tone pacifying and slightly patronizing.

He shot her a warning look and she wisely looked away. "We need to organize a team to take over the ship."

"A team isn't the best idea, Captain." Lana spoke up. Since the snide tone was replaced by one of genuine respect, Jim nodded at her to continue. "Surprise is the way to play this one; a team would be detected more easily and it would send the Klingons into full battle mode. In close quarters and with them having the home-field advantage, that's something we want to avoid. I recommend a single infiltrator."

"And who would that be?" Jim asked, already knowing her answer.

"I'm the logical choice, Captain." Lana responded.

"I won't let you go in alone. It's too dangerous."

Lana's nostrils flared. "Captain, there are only four people on this ship with the defensive capabilities for this mission: you, Spock, Sulu and me – and I'm the only one with the tactical experience to pull off a sneak attack behind enemy lines. Besides, you and Spock have command decisions to make and if we want this ship to fly anywhere, Sulu is needed here to repair helm control. That leaves me and I'm perfectly capable of completing this mission successfully!"

"Well, Spock can mind the shop while I'm gone." Jim smirked. "I'm going with you."

Lana shot Spock a look, as if saying, 'do something!' He spoke up reluctantly. "Captain, your place is here. I will accompany Commander Andre to the Klingon ship and carry out this plan."

Jim drew back. Spock hadn't resisted him on anything like this since the Nero incident. But, at the end of the day, he was Captain and that definitely had its perks. "Awfully kind of you, Spock, but I don't remember offering you the job. I'm going and you're in command while I'm gone." _End of discussion_ was implied.

Lana's body started to shake with anger and her control was fraying. Pavel was hurt, maybe dying. Maybe her judgment was clouded by that, but she wasn't going to let Jim put himself in this position and get killed in the process! He was too important to Enterprise and, frankly, too important to her. Lana looked back and forth between Jim and Spock. Realizing the Vulcan wasn't going to push the point, she snapped. Standing up and slamming her palm on the table, she yelled, "With all due respect, Captain, this isn't a bar-room brawl and those aren't drunken hicks over there! We're talking about covert infiltration, surprise attacks and possibly hand-to-hand combat with Klingons, the most skilled warriors the Federation has ever come across!"

"Your point?" Jim asked tightly, his tolerance for her defiance nearly gone.

"You can't handle this!" Lana burst out.

Jim stood up suddenly. His whole body tensed and he said through clenched teeth, "My ready room. _Now_."

Lana stormed out of the room toward his ready room and Jim followed, barking an order to Scotty over his shoulder. "Get started on the transporters! Dismissed!"

He crossed the bridge and stalked into his ready room, seeing Lana already there and pacing furiously.

"What the hell makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Jim yelled as soon as the doors closed behind him.

"Someone needs to!" she screamed back. "You don't get to put yourself in danger!"

"And you don't get to make that call! This is my ship and I think you've forgotten that!"

"Oh, I'm well aware that this is your ship! Why do you think I'm trying so hard to keep you on it? How about you let me do my job, huh? Let me keep this ship _and its Captain_ safe!"

Jim stopped yelling. Instead his voice became low and hoarse, but it held steely authority. "This is the way I run my ship, so you better get yourself in line, _Commander_. I've come to value your opinion, but if you _ever_ talk to me like that in front of my crew again, I'll not only approve your request for transfer…I'll insist on it. Give me your answer, right now, yes or no: can you follow my orders?"

Lana stared into his hard, unflinching gaze and saw only Captain Kirk. Jim, her friend and lover, was gone…as it should be. He was speaking to her as a Captain and she'd yelled at him like a petulant, tantrum-throwing toddler. She lowered her head shamefully and could only gape at her behavior. She knew the chain-of-command was of paramount importance in any organization; it was how she was able to function as a soldier. What she'd done…it was unconscionable and she was 100 percent in the wrong. She may not like his recklessness, but that didn't give her the right to question it in front of his senior staff.

She lowered herself into a chair, staring dumbfounded at the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Jim heaved a great sigh and sat behind his desk, rubbing his forehead tirely. "Maybe Pike was right. Maybe a captain's life really is meant to be lonely. I don't know what made me think we could pull off a relationship."

Lana's head snapped up, dread and slight desperation in her eyes. "We can. I fucked up big time, I can admit that. But we've proven we can function as two officers serving together, what with building the pulse and handling the Klingon captain. But we can still be with each other, too. This is just our growing pains, you know? I just need to figure out how to put the two together. I'm so sorry, Jim, really. Between what happened to Pavel and you being in danger, I lost it! But thought of losing you over this, its just…"

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to end it, but he would have if she'd stayed silent or worse, agreed. But she wanted this, was willing to work for it, and that was a start. "Lana, if this is going to work, you need to trust that I can take care of myself. And I trust that you'll have my back on those rare occasions that I can't. And it goes both ways."

Lana gave a small, apologetic smile. "I trust you."

"I trust you, too." Jim smiled back, but it slipped off his face. "But can you restrain yourself in there?"

She swallowed tightly, her smile disappearing too. "I won't lie to you, Jim. I want to kill every single person on that ship and light it on fire; they hurt Pavel and I hate them for that. But I won't lose control. You're my Captain and we do this your way."

Jim nodded. "Think of it this way. Instead of getting revenge on one Klingon ship, we're going to steal it and stick it to the whole Empire."

Lana thought about it and then smiled grimly. "I think I can live with that."

"Then let's hammer out the details. We've got twenty minutes before the transporters are repaired."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A short time later, Lana and Jim were standing side by side on the transporter pad. Both were wearing body armor; Lana had a phaser rifle and a strap across her chest lined with flash-bombs, smoke grenades, canisters of Anesthezine gas and a small gas mask. She had on a belt, with a holstered phase pistol on one side and a collapsible sword on the other. Jim's phase pistol was in his strong grip and there was a knife sheathed on his belt. He, too, had a strap across his chest. It was lined with small, circular devices and a gas mask. There was determination and concentration in their eyes.

"Now remember Captain: place the modules on each Klingon's body and press down." Scotty was explaining. "That will signal our transporters and we'll beam them here. If their unconscious, we'll beam them directly to the brig. If not, we'll have security standin' by in the transporter rooms, ready to take them down. Our scans of the ship indicate 26 life-signs, concentrated most heavily in engineering and the armory."

McCoy stepped forward. "The Anesthezine will be most effective there. You can disable the entire room with one canister, but Klingons metabolize Anesthezine quickly. You'll have about five minutes to get them over to Enterprise before they start waking up."

"Understood." Jim said stonily, readjusting his weapons.

"One more thing, Jim." McCoy said.

"What's that, Bones?"

"Don't die."

Jim grinned. "I'll do my best."

"If ya get in over yer heads, contact us and we'll beam ya out of there." Scotty said worriedly.

"Thanks, Scotty, but we'll be fine." Lana said, turning to Jim. "Ready?"

"Always." he responded. "You?"

She pulled the recharge mechanism on her rifle and the weapon sounded with a metallic _crack_, indicating its readiness to fire. "So ready. Let's do this."

"Energize, Scotty."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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	12. Storm

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim and Lana materialized in the dark, ominous environment of the Klingon ship. Green emergency lights warred with the darkness, trying to illuminate the smoke-filled room, but they only managed to create an eerie green fog. The stink of the ship burned through their nostrils and made their eyes water; it was the putrid, overheated smell of electrical fires, sweat, and rotting meat. Jim nearly gagged but managed to suffocate the urge under a blanket of raw determination.

Lana's rifle snapped up parallel to the ground. Her sharp eyes took in their position as she circled around, ready to fire at the slightest hint of enemy activity. They were in a small cargo bay adjacent to the armory and thankfully, it was empty. Lowering her weapon, she turned to Jim and spoke in whispers.

"Remember, Jim, timing is crucial here. We need to clear Engineering and the armory as quickly as possible."

"We could do it faster if we split up." Jim reiterated. Lana glared at him.

"You're crazy if you think I'm letting you out of my sight. No, we go together, but our timing has to be precise. If they get wise to our presence before we clear the majority of the crew, then either the mission fails or we find ourselves facing hordes of angry Klingons. I'm not a fan of either option."

"Take down the crew, do it quickly and don't die. Got it." Jim recapped, bringing his phaser up.

Lana took point in front of Jim and led them out of the room. Their weapons were charged and their eyes constantly scanned the landscape ahead of them. Their bodies were tensed for action and every movement suggested absolute focus on their objective. The noise level grew as they moved cautiously down the corridor. The clanging of metal tools on metal equipment and the sharp orders of Klingons met their ears; the two stopped abruptly. Lana turned silently to Jim and tapped the gas mask hanging from the strap across her chest. He nodded and both hooked the small masks around their ears. Lana crept toward the entrance to the armory and handed Jim a canister of Anesthezine. She went down on one knee, ready to pick off any Klingon that tried to escape the gas. Jim pulled the pin from the small container and threw it into the room.

The effect was instantaneous. Loud, confused shouts burst from the room and two Klingons ran into the corridor. Lana fired twice in rapid succession, taking both of them down. Only seconds later, the noise was reduced to incoherent mumbles and groans. Then it stopped altogether. Lana swept into the room as Jim attached the transporter devices to the Klingons in the hall. The bodies were beamed away a moment later and the two continued through the room, placing the rest of the devices with intense concentration.

Just as the last body was beamed from the room, a voice sounded in the armory.

"_Kuo'Ja! Luktah Be'tcho!_"

Lana and Jim froze, staring at the intercom. They didn't have to speak Klingon to know the disembodied voice was expecting someone to answer. Lana turned wide eyes to Jim and grabbed his arm, running toward Engineering with the controlled panic of an experienced soldier. The Klingon wouldn't be getting an answer, considering his armory team was now secure in Enterprise's brig. They'd send someone to investigate and the jig would be up. The Klingons would organize a hunting party to search out and kill the infiltrators. Lana increased her speed and heard Jim quicken his pace behind her. They needed to clear Engineering before that happened if they wanted a fighting chance.

Not bothering to quiet their pounding footsteps, the two turned into the corridor outside Engineering and saw that Klingons were already filtering out of the room. The first Klingon caught sight of them and sounded a cry to his fellow warriors. Lana charged forward, firing into the small crowd. Surprise was on her side and the first three went down, but others took their place prepared and ready to fight. She heard shots whiz by her head and saw two more go down, knowing that Jim was firing from behind her. Never slowing her pace, Lana rushed forward into the bottlenecked entrance to Engineering. She dropped her unwieldy rifle and ripped a canister of Anesthezine off her strap. She pulled the pin out and threw it into the room, grabbing the compact phaser on her belt and firing some more.

Managing to slip into the room, she wasn't patient enough to let the knock-out gas do its work. She took out as many as she could with her phaser and soon, every body had dropped to the floor either from weapons fire or the potent drug. As soon as the last Klingon fell, she whipped around frantically, searching for Jim with her eyes. He wasn't in the room.

Panic nipped at the edge of her mind, but she ran into the corridor and breathed a sigh of relief. He was placing the devices on the warriors who had fallen outside of Engineering. Looking up at her relieved expression, Jim grinned from behind his gas mask and his eyes twinkled in amusement. Lana saw the smug look in his eyes and glared half-heartedly, suppressing a small smile. She marched forward and ripped a handful of the transporter devices from his chest, placing a hand over his heart for the briefest of moments before proceeding into the room.

In less than a minute, the two had cleared Engineering and were moving through the unfamiliar corridors once again. Now that their presence was known, they needed to regroup. They ducked into a small alcove off the beaten path and ripped off their gas masks, panting.

"You okay?" Jim asked immediately.

"Fine. You?" Lana asked back.

"Yeah, no harm done. What next?"

"I counted eight in the armory and thirteen in Engineering. That leaves five more." Lana said between panted breaths.

"Most are probably on the bridge." Jim said, taking out a tricorder. Scanning the ship, he nodded. "Three on the bridge, one in sickbay and one in the Jeffries tube system on the lower decks."

"We need to get to them before they get to each other." Lana stated. "If they organize, they'll be harder to take down."

"Agreed." Jim said. "I think we need to split up."

Lana grimaced. She didn't like the idea of Jim wandering around the Klingon ship without her to back him up, but from a tactical standpoint, he was right. They needed to take the Klingons now before they developed a counter-insurgency plan.

"Agreed." Lana acknowledged. "I'll take the bridge, you take the lower decks."

Jim nodded. Lana was giving herself the more dangerous assignment, but even as captain, he couldn't expect to win every battle against his tactical officer/girlfriend. Instead, he divided up the remaining transporter modules and handed them to her. She, in turn, gave him two flash-bombs and the last canister of Anesthezine. Once their resources were divided up, it was time to part ways. There was nothing left to say, so Jim just nodded and started to walk away.

He hadn't even gotten a step before Lana spun him around and kissed him urgently, almost violently. Her lips molded onto his with pressure and heat, her fingers raked through his hair and gripped him tightly. Jim responded by backing her up against the bulkhead.

They couldn't give voice to the chilling fear that they may never see the other alive again. They couldn't convey their worry. They couldn't find the words to express all they meant to each other and now wasn't the time anyway. But they could touch and taste and feel each other. They could cling to each other with all the strength of their combined will to live. They could promise each other, however briefly and fleetingly, that they'd be this close again and finish what they started when they were out of danger.

Jim softened the kiss and Lana whimpered miserably, knowing the moment was coming to a close. Their hot breath mingled as he pulled away, nipping at her lips a few more times before separating completely. Allowing a small moment of vulnerability, Jim rested his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut. Lana held him to her tightly before sighing and looking up into his eyes. They stared, Jim's eyes boring into hers with all the intensity of an exploding star and Lana's heated grey eyes burning into his soul.

"Stay safe." Jim said in a strangled whisper.

"I will." Lana promised. "You too, okay?"

Jim cracked a lopsided, slightly forced smiled and tried to lighten the mood. "Haven't you heard? Jim Kirk's a legend. You can't kill a legend, baby."

Lana rolled her eyes. "Go, before I shoot you myself."

They left the alcove and squeezed each other's hands, Jim moving right and Lana moving left down the corridor. Both were left with a renewed sense of determination and urgency. They were fighting for Federation citizens; they were fighting for their injured crew and damaged ship. But now they were fighting for each other, too, and that brought their senses into sharp focus. Jim continued on his way through the labyrinth of dark corridors, following the path his tricorder had laid out for him. As he closed on the doors to Sickbay, he pocketed the tricorder and pulled out his phaser. There was only one man inside, but he crept up to the closed doors with caution anyway. Hitting a keypad outside Sickbay, the doors opened with a sluggish groan and he immediately ducked low, sweeping his phaser through the room.

His precautions, it seemed, were unnecessary. The only Klingon in the room was already in worse shape than Jim would have put him in. He was unattended in the poor excuse for a sickbay, unconscious and laid out on a hard table. Jim took out his communicator.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here, Captain." came Spock's calm voice.

"I'm sending you another Klingon. Beam this one to Sickbay instead of the brig. Have McCoy treat him, but keep him sedated and assign a security team just in case."

"Understood."

Kirk closed his communicator and pressed one of the devices onto the Klingon's shoulder. As soon as the damaged warrior dematerialized, Jim resumed his mission and headed for the Jeffries tube system.

Following his tricorder to the remaining Klingon's life sign, Jim thought over his strategy. This one would be more of a challenge. In tight quarters, his phaser would probably do more harm than good. If he shot a plasma vent by mistake, they'd both go up in flames. Jim arrived outside the Jeffries tube hatch and ran a scan of the solid metal doors. The Klingon was on the other side, about 20 meters in. He shoved the phaser and the tricorder back onto his belt, swapping them for one of Lana's homemade flash-bombs. The keypad outside the small hatch was destroyed, so Jim grabbed the emergency handle and magnetized it to the door. Prying the opening apart a crack, Jim activated the flash-bomb and slid it deep into the Jeffries tube. Covering his ears and shutting his eyes, he heard a 'boom' echo in the small chamber.

Flash-bombs were designed to disorient a target, not hurt them. Jim hoped the loud bang and the bright flash were enough to keep the Klingon occupied until he could reach him. Jim crawled toward the Klingon, but the hulking warrior started to stir when Jim was still ten meters away. He sat up a moment later and Jim launched himself the remaining distance, tackling the Klingon in the cramped shaft. After a moment of stunned surprise, the Klingon easily over-powered him and forced his full weight onto Jim, knocking the wind out of him. The warrior's eyes clouded with rage and bloodlust as he backhanded Jim across the face; he gave a grunt as pain exploded behind his left eye. The spiked body armor made contact again and he felt blood run down his cheek. Jim groped for his phaser, but it was wedged between their bodies. He pushed up from the deck plating and shifted himself further from the murderous Klingon, reaching for the phaser again. This time, the Klingon grabbed the offending limb and brought it up over Jim's head, smashing it down on a nearby power conduit. Jim gritted his teeth and stifled a scream as he felt the bone snap. The warrior snarled through a grin of sadistic satisfaction and reached for the phaser himself. Jim's eyes went wide in panic and he thrashed beneath the man, desperate to work himself from under the crushing weight. He gained a few inches, just enough to expose part of the strap across his chest. His eyes landed on the last transporter module; it reflected the light of an exposed plasma junction and shone at Jim like a beacon. Just as the Klingon's hand wrapped around the grip of the phaser, Jim snatched the module and slapped it onto the Klingon's cheek. The warrior's head snapped up and his eyes widened in surprise as he was beamed away.

Jim flipped open his communicator and shouted, "Enterprise! Report!"

"Stand-by." Spock responded, the sounds of a struggle joining his voice over the comm. line. Jim waited for an interminable period of time, frozen and tense in the overheated Jeffries tube. "Spock to Captain Kirk. The Klingon has been incapacitated and removed to the brig."

Jim fell back against the grated deck plating, a giant sigh of relief escaping him. He indulged in a small moment of peace before his eyes snapped open and he asked urgently, "Any word from Lana?"

"No, Sir. Nor have we had any transports from her location." Spock informed him. "However, her life signs are stable."

"Understood. I'll rendezvous with her on the bridge. Kirk out." Jim said. He cradled his broken wrist against his chest and hobbled as fast as he could from the Jeffries tube on one hand. The pain should have been extreme and his exertions should have left him weak, but his only thought was getting to Lana. He ran through the corridors of the ship, not bothering with stealth or caution. Sweat seeped into the gash on his head, his heavy pace jostled and rocked his damaged wrist, but he didn't feel any of it. It didn't matter. It wasn't important. Adrenaline forced the crippling pain to bend to his will and his will demanded that he find Lana.

One moment he was in the stifling Jeffries tube and the next he was skidding to a halt at the entrance of the bridge. It took him a split second to analyze the scene in front of him. One Klingon was slumped over a console, a phaser blast marring his body armor. Another was laid out spread-eagle on the floor, a massive bruise already forming on his cranial ridges. The third was Koros himself. The Klingon captain's rage was a physical, demanding presence in the room and it was focused solely on his tactical officer. They were locked together in the middle of the room, his bat'leth and her sword shaking with the strength of their wielders. The blades were interlocked and the two were circling each other. Even from twenty feet away, he could see Lana's arms shaking under the strain. Koros was overpowering her, but he couldn't get a clear shot of the warrior.

The sharp points on the bat'leth were getting dangerously close to Lana's face when she swept her body to the side and used her sword to guide the bat'leth away from her. Her back was now to Jim and he saw a jagged, freely bleeding wound running half the length of her back. His phaser snapped up in an instant, some angry force in him demanding that he hurt the man who did this to her. But their positions were changing too fast; Lana was ducking and weaving, Koros was swinging and charging, and the slightest interference on his part could end up doing more harm than good. Finally his shot came. Lana ducked sharply under a powerful swing, so sharply that she was knocked onto her back. Before Koros could bring the weapon overhead for the death blow, Lana lashed out with a heavy kick to his right knee; Jim heard a sickening crunch followed by an enraged howl. Lana was on her feet a moment later, her sword flying in a deadly arc toward his neck.

Jim fired.

Lana's swing passed through thin air as the Klingon crumpled to the floor. She whipped toward Jim, ready to fight again. It took a moment for her war-time mindset to register Jim as an ally rather than an enemy, but as soon as she did, her sword clattered to the floor. Her body seemed to sag, yet she remained standing.

"Modules." she panted, tossing him two from her strap.

He caught them in one hand, moving to the other bodies. The hard part was over but the job wasn't done, so the two worked in focused silence until the bridge was empty. They stood for a moment, surrounded by the heavy stillness of the abandoned ship. Jim raised an eyebrow at Lana, who nodded at the unspoken question.

"Kirk to Enterprise." Jim said, moving beside Lana. "The Klingon ship is clear. Bring us home."

Their eyes locked as the tingling sensation of the transporter beam ran through their bodies. Whole once again, they found themselves in a packed transporter room. Spock, Bones, Uhura, Scotty and Sulu were there, as well as a half a dozen security officers and a couple of nurses.

"Jesus." Bones muttered at the sight of their beaten bodies. He elbowed his way through the crowded room, dragging his nurses behind him. "Move aside. Out of the way. Clear a path, morons!"

The crowd parted and the noise quieted under the doctor's belligerent order, but resumed as Bones escorted Jim and Lana from the room. The two officers' considerable entourage surrounded them and the group moved like an amorphous blob through the corridors. The noise was overbearing. Jim was shouting orders, Spock was calmly yet loudly relaying the ship's status, McCoy was spewing unintelligible medical jargon at his nurses and the beeping of their scanning devices mingled with the voices. Half of Lana's security staff was trying to maneuver her out of her weaponry and destroyed body armor (while she waspishly batted their hands away), the other half was requesting instructions and Cupcake was yelling at the others to back off.

The situation didn't improve much upon their arrival to Sickbay. McCoy tried to restore order, but Jim's loud and authoritative orders drowned his voice. Bones just shook his head; he handed Lana over to another doctor and her security staff followed them to the other side of the room. McCoy led Jim to another biobed and took care of his friend, who conducted a staff meeting while being treated.

"Spock, you'll be in command of the Klingon ship until further notice. Ow! Damn it, Bones!" Jim yelled, pulling back his broken wrist. McCoy just called him a baby and snatched the limb back. Jim glared at him, but continued with his orders. "Uhura, you'll be on Spock's team. We'll need most of their system operating materials translated as well as their computer displays. Go. Sulu, you're assigned to the Klingon vessel for the remainder of this mission. You're our best pilot and we'll need you flying that monstrosity. You don't have long to learn exactly how that's done, so get started. Scotty, do you have any experience with Klingon warp technology?"

"Not specifically, but I've never met an engine I couldn't fix. She won't be the prettiest girl at the ball, but she'll dance just fine, Captain."

"Good. Organize repair crews and engineering teams to be assigned to the Klingon ship and assign someone to take over in Engineering while you're gone. Use your best judgment and send me a report."

"Aye, Captain." Scotty said, striding away with purpose.

Jim continued to discuss with Spock and McCoy, while Lana was doling out her own orders across the room.

She was lying on her stomach as the doctor cut through the back of her shirt and peeled away the blood-soaked cloth. The deep, uneven wound caused a collective intake of breath from her security staff. Lana just rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as the cool air assaulted the flaming wound.

"Cupcake! Status report!" Lana barked through the pain. "How are our guests doing?"

"All 26 are secure in the brig and have regained consciousness, but it's going downhill fast." Cupcake informed her. "They're disgraced, humiliated and blaming each other for what happened. We've already had to stun four warriors who came to blows. We can't keep them in there until we take them planet-side; they'll kill each other first."

"I don't give a shit if they kill each other, but they're not doing it on my ship." Lana took a deep, hissing breath as the doctor probed the wound and she squeezed her eyes shut. Speaking through clenched teeth, she continued. "Here's what we're going to do. Until further notice, cargo-bay two will be Enterprise's new prison-wing. Have Scotty replicate some portable force-field generators and convert the storage units into individual holding cells. I want two teams in there at all times and I want control of the environmental systems in the cargo-bay. If the worst should happen, I want that room filled with Anesthezine before the Klingons can get off a battle cry. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Cupcake replied, stifling a grin at his commander. He delegated the appropriate duties and stayed behind, discussing security measures with Lana. After the doctor had treated her with a deep-tissue probe, dermal regenerator and given her six hyposprays of transfused blood, she was cleared to leave Sickbay. She walked to the door with Cupcake, but turned back to look at Jim. Their eyes locked together across the room, heat and depth in their gazes. But then Spock asked a question and the moment was broken. Lana left the room and Jim answered his first officer, both devoting themselves wholly to their duties.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Jim sighed under the hot, steaming water of his shower and tilted his face into the blast. Today may very well have been the most exhausting day of his life. After returning from the Klingon ship, the demands on his time were never-ending: reports, questions, requests, communications, orders, plans, consultations, running, moving, talking. Finally, Bones had actually ordered him to get some rest. Considering he hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours, since before the pulse test, Jim didn't put up much of a fight.

Now that he was off the clock, though, relaxation wouldn't come. If anything, he was wound even tighter than before because now he had time to dwell on the past two days. They'd invented a breakthrough technology, tested it against the enemy, exposed the Klingon's cloaking device, survived a brutal battle, stormed a Klingon ship and were now in the process of repairing said ship.

And on top of that, he'd had the crap beat out of him. Frowning, he flexed his wrist and circled it tentatively, finding that it was still sore. According to McCoy, it would be for several days, but a broken wrist in exchange for a Klingon ship? Totally worth it.

Stepping out of the shower and falling into bed, he tossed and turned and shifted restlessly. Sleep wasn't coming easily, with everything rolling around in his head. If ever he needed a sedative, tonight was the night. Tossing back his covers and slipping on a pair of boxers, he opened the closet for his uniform but was interrupted by the chime of his door. He sighed, wondering what new crisis required his attention. Throwing on his robe, he answered the door.

It was Lana. Her arms were braced on each side of the door and the look in her eyes shot straight to his groin. It was the feral, hungry gleam that had been in her eye during their only night together. That smoldering, demanding look that she'd shot him a thousand times during her sexually-charged play for revenge. The near-delirious, passionate gaze he'd always left her with after kissing her senseless.

"Jim." she purred, her voice low and husky.

"Yeah, Lana?" Jim asked tightly.

She bared her teeth in a predatory smile. "We just stole a Klingon ship."

A wicked grin blossomed on Kirk's face; he could see for himself how excited that thought made her. He poked his head out of the room, glancing both directions down the corridors. Seeing only empty hallways, he grabbed Lana's arm and yanked her into the room. Lana gave a dark chuckle at her enthusiastic reception, clawing at his robe until it was a wrinkled pile on the floor. Jim pulled her shirt over her head, pressing himself against her and nearly groaning at her hot, soft skin sliding against his. Their mouths met in a fiery clash of passion, adrenaline, and need. Lana hummed against his lips in encouragement, the vibrations making his lips tingle from the contact.

He backed her up to his bunk, but just before he could settle her on the mattress, she gripped his shoulders and pushed him. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell onto it gracelessly; Lana grinned at the sight of him splayed on the bed, hers for the taking. Crawling on top of him, rubbing the length of their bodies together as she settled above him, she leaned down to his chest. She kissed, licked, bit, nibbled and just plain _feasted_ on the delectable body of her captain. Jim was nothing but a groaning mess beneath her. Jim knew he was her first, but what she may lack in experience, she made up for with pure animal instinct. There was no self-consciousness in her actions, no guile or practiced technique; she was completely in the moment, letting her mind shut off and allowing her body to lead the way.

As good as she was, though, Jim had never been one to just lie back and take it. He hooked a leg over her hip and flipped them over, grinding his hips into hers. A sharp spike of pleasure rolled through her body as he pushed against her wet core. It made her desire for dominance even stronger and she may have actually growled at the sensation. She flipped them over again, taking control of their rhythm and circling her hips against his hard length. Jim wanted to be on top, to be in control as much as she did and tried to turn them over again. But Lana's legs were locked against his strongly and she wouldn't budge.

"Am I going to have to tie you to the bed?" Jim growled, drawing in a sharp breath as her hand closed around him.

"Maybe later." she mumbled against his lips. Jim groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head, just imagining what _that_ meant. But soon, even that enticing thought was erased from his mind as she started to stroke him under his boxer-briefs. His eyes popped open wide and he absurdly thanked any god listening that it wasn't her wrist that was broken; that wrist was far too valuable and talented and oh god, so good, holy shit, don't stop. He could feel her hot, open-mouth kisses trail down his stomach to his hips. Then his underwear was suddenly gone and she was staring at the proudest part of his anatomy like a panther looks at its prey. She licked her lips and lowered her head.

The image alone was enough to send him over the edge, but at the feel of her hot, wet mouth surrounding him, he gave an embarrassing half-yelp, half-whimper. He could feel her mouth form a grin around him; he gave a weak, half-hearted glare, but couldn't muster any real indignation. She circled his shaft, up and down, swirling , licking – like she was experimenting with all the ways to torture a man using only her tongue.

He felt the tell-tale tightening inside his body and gripped Lana's shoulder. "Now."

Lana released him lazily. She laid her head down on his thigh and looked up at him with a smug, empowered smirk on her face "Now what?"

"Get up here now." Jim bit out, needing her so badly it was almost painful.

Lana rose up on all fours and crawled up his body seductively, each movement closer accompanied by another word. "Why. Don't. You." She settled their hips together and hissed in his ear, "Make me."

Red flashed behind his eyes. Not anger, but primitive and demanding lust. When he flipped them over this time, he encountered no resistance. Somehow, Lana had managed to keep her bra and pants on, but those were gone before he even registered that his hands were moving. He latched onto one of her nipples and sucked hard at the same moment he entered her in a long, piercing stroke.

Lana screamed in ecstasy, her body shaking from the sensory overload. Her raw, electrified nerve endings had no time to recover from the onslaught of pleasure as Jim plowed into her body, pounding into her wet and pulsing core. Jim ran a hand under her ass, continuing down her thigh and lifting one of her legs over his hip. The new angle had him grinding against that bundle of nerves with every pass, going deeper and harder into her, over and over again.

He couldn't help a proud smirk as she started whimpering in Russian. That rough and guttural language washed over his ears like music; only he could make her lose control like this. Only he could make her _feel_ like this. If he had his say, he would be the only one to _ever_ make her feel like this.

The thought brought his lips crashing down on hers. They panted into each other's mouths between kisses and Jim growled something under his breath.

"Mine." he hissed lowly, not even aware he'd spoken.

Lana cried out, his primal claim exciting something ancient and unspoken in her. She brought a hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at her. His feverish blue eyes settled on her stormy grey ones and she kissed him, saying against his lips, "I'm yours, all yours, only yours." But before he could mistake her admission for submission, she bit his bottom lip none-too-gently and possessively growled back, "Mine."

Jim grinned and turned over voluntarily, letting Lana ride him. She smiled down on him before taking up his furious pace, both of them losing themselves to the powerful surges of energy and pleasure coursing through their bodies. Her hips pumped up and down faster than she could keep up with, if that was possible. It felt like she was going faster than she could handle, yet here she was, driving herself toward something bright and hot and bursting.

She started to scream, feeling like she was about to crash and fly at the same time. Jim gripped her hips and thrust up into her, feeling her tighten around him.

"Jim!" she yelled, a rough, hoarse pitch to her voice. "Harder, harder, harder!"

Jim just grunted her name over and over, going deeper and sharper inside her. Glancing up, he saw her throw her head back; the long column of her throat was exposed and extended as she screamed her pleasure. Her naked, glistening body riding him sent him over the edge and his hips lifted off the bed as he came deep inside her. His scream joined hers until their voices and bodies were completely spent. She collapsed bonelessly on his chest, their starved lungs forcing them to take in huge gulps of air.

The force of their joining was so exhausting, there were no words spoken or long, meaningful looks exchanged. Lana managed to slide most of the way off him, but they were still a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs when they fell asleep.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was almost ten hours later when Jim awoke from his deep, healing, extremely sated sleep. His muscles ached pleasantly and he rolled over.

Once again, Lana wasn't there.

But unlike last time, her side of the bed was still warm. There were traces of her presence in his room, from the discarded uniform shirt to her ripped-beyond-repair panties. And unlike last time, this time he knew exactly where she was. He dressed quickly and, without asking the computer, made his way to where he knew he'd find her. He also knew that when he got there, she would need him.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Read and Review!**


	13. Changes

**Disclaimer: not mine. You can't see it, but I'm pouting right now.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was close to 0400 hours and Sickbay was practically abandoned. The biobeds were empty, the ever-present beeping of monitors had ceased and a single nurse was keeping busy by reorganizing a storage cabinet. McCoy was holed up in his office, eyelids drooping and his chin occasionally falling from its perch atop his hand. He was reading some boring and unoriginal medical text, but his eyes snapped open eagerly when he heard the doors to Sickbay open.

It was Jim.

Pity, he didn't look injured or sick. Oh well, a distraction was a distraction. Bones left his office and approached Jim, who was craning his neck this way and that, looking around Sickbay. The doctor clapped a hand on his captain's shoulder and chuckled when Jim let out a startled yelp.

"Don't do that, you sneaky bastard!" Jim exclaimed, a hand over his racing heart.

"I'm not sneaky. You're just distracted." Bones shot back. "Speaking of which, what brings you to my fortress of solitude? Your wrist okay?"

"What?" Jim asked, still looking around the room. "Oh. Yeah, its fine. I'm actually looking for Lana."

Bones scrutinized Jim's face and then smirked. "So…you finally closed the deal, huh?"

"Someday you'll have to tell me how you do that." Jim smiled, shaking his head. "Is she here?"

"Yeah. She's with Chekov. Has been for the last hour or so."

"How's he doing?" Jim asked, turning his full attention to McCoy.

Bones sighed, hanging his head. "I've repaired the cosmetic damage. That was the easy part. The internal injuries required surgery; we had a few scares, but he came out of it okay. The head trauma was worse than I thought, though. He's in a coma."

"So what's the next step?" Jim asked intently.

"There is no next step, Jim." McCoy said. "I've done all I can. The rest is up to him."

Jim sighed, shaking his head. Glancing up, he asked, "Can I see him?"

"Don't see why not." McCoy said, pointing toward the back of the room. There was a white curtain separating the surgical bay from the rest of the room and Jim nodded his thanks, heading toward it.

He pulled back the curtain silently, poking his head in to survey the scene. Lana was seated in a tall chair at the head of Chekov's bed, a raggedy teddy bear on her lap. To Jim's surprise, she wasn't alone. Sulu sat in the chair next to her. She was holding Chekov's hand, Sulu was holding her hand, and Sulu's other hand was gripping Chekov's knee. There was silence in the small room, but it was the unique brand of silence that only Sulu and Lana could produce. The loaded quiet between them always gave outsiders the feeling that there was a secret conversation going on right under their noses. No one was privy to the exchanges that their silence carried from one to the other and no one could intrude on the small, private world only big enough for them. It was no wonder he had mistaken them for a couple. Their connection was so rare and unexplainable, it never failed to evoke deep envy in those who witnessed it.

Except him. Their link to each other was deep in a spiritual sense, but their closeness didn't bother Jim in the slightest because it had little correlation to the outside world. They didn't talk like he and Lana did; they didn't challenge each other to grow and change like he and Lana did. Their relationship was comfortable, absolute and unchanging, which is why Sulu was right – they could never be more than friends.

Jim shook his head to clear it from his internal musings and he stepped into the room, interrupting their silent vigil. He went to Chekov's side and looked at the boy. He looked like he was enjoying a peaceful night's sleep, but the sensors and monitors attached to his body shattered the serene image.

"How's he doing?" Jim asked.

"Better." Sulu replied. "He has more color and his breathing has evened out."

"Good. How are things on the Klingon ship?"

"Slow going, but we're making headway. I just came back to grab a shower and a couple hours sleep." Sulu said. He switched his glance between Jim and Lana, realizing it was probably time to make a graceful exit. "Actually, I should probably be heading back. That ship's not going to fly itself."

"Good luck." Lana spoke up, giving Sulu a barely-there smile.

"Stay with him, okay?" Sulu asked, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"I will." Lana promised. Sulu squeezed her hand and their lips met in a brief kiss. Sulu pushed the curtain aside and left, leaving Jim and Lana to take up the vigil.

"He won't be able to concentrate on his work unless he knows Pavel's not alone." Lana broke the silence.

"They're best friends." Jim responded simply, taking Sulu's chair. After a moment of silence, out of the blue, he asked, "Are you guys going to keep kissing, even though we're together?"

Lana laughed quietly. "We're a package deal, Jim. Get used to it. Although, if it makes you feel any better, I like kissing you more. A lot more."

"You better." Jim smirked. His eyes drifted to her lap and he asked, "What's with the bear?"

"It's Pavel's." Lana answered, eyes on the bear and a soft smile on her face. The plush toy was practically falling apart. Both of it's button eyes were dangling from black thread, one of it's ears was missing and stuffing was coming out of the hole, and the fabric was matted and stained. But it had the comfortable, worn feel of a child's favorite toy. "Or at least it used to be. Papa bought it for him right after he was born. Pasha used to drag it everywhere; he loved the damn thing."

"It was nice of you to get it from his quarters. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"I didn't." Lana admitted. "I took it when I left home. He didn't take it with him to boarding school; I guess he didn't want to get made fun of. I just remember packing in a blind rage and throwing everything I owned into a suitcase. But I saw Meesh-Meesh sitting on Pavel's bed and it felt…important to take him with me. I've had him ever since."

"You know why you took it, Lana." Jim said seriously.

Lana sighed and rested her head on Jim's shoulder. "I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Since when can you shut off that sexy brain of yours?" Jim smirked, playing with her hair.

"I can't shut it off, but I can focus on something else. Pavel's been in Sickbay for the last two days, but I didn't give it a single thought while I was planning the Klingon op. Or while I was over there kicking ass. Or while I was screwing your brains out." Jim chuckled. "But now, there's nothing for me to do _but_ think about him. What if he dies? What if he never wakes up? What if-"

"What if he does wake up?" Jim interrupted. "Both of you will get another chance to make things right."

"I don't know." Lana groaned, sounding lost and frustrated. "So much has happened between us! So much time has passed! How do you fix something like that?"

"I'm not the best person to ask." Jim scoffed. Feeling he should play the supportive boyfriend, he shifted uncomfortably and continued. "But I'm, you know, here for you…if you need me…and stuff."

"Thanks for your encouraging, if awkward, words of support." she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I'm trying here!" he cried in mock-protest.

Lana's playful demeanor gave way to something more serious and she kissed him slowly, deeply. "I know you are. Thank you. For being here…and stuff."

Jim laughed. "We'll have to work on the relationship-y talk. We both suck at it."

"We should just use a code word that implies the mushy stuff, so we don't actually have to say it. I'll be honest, all that emotional business makes me cringe." Lana grinned.

"I've always liked the word 'avuncular'. It just rolls off the tongue – avuncular." Jim drug the word out, holding back a laugh.

"I like britches." Lana laughed.

"How do you feel about sprocket?"

"Or cahoots! I love to say that word, but rarely get the chance. Cahoot. Cahoot. Let's go cahooting."

"Vat about squeegee." Pavel said weakly from the biobed. Jim and Lana whipped their heads toward the table in shock. Pavel's eyes blinked heavily at them, but there was a small, dimpled smile on his face. "Zat vord alvays makes me smile."

"Pasha!" Lana cried, moving to his side.

"I'll get McCoy." Jim said, standing abruptly. Before he left, he squeezed Pavel's shoulder and smiled. "It's good to have you back, Chekov."

Lana brushed a curl from his forehead, looking down on him with such relief and love it brought tears to his eyes. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so…God, I…thank you, thank you for coming back. I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

"Thank you for being here viz me." Pavel whispered.

"You're my brother, Pasha." Lana said fiercely. "Whatever problems we have, I will always be here for you when it counts."

"So…are ve okay?" he asked hopefully.

"Not yet. Not by a long shot." Lana answered. "But I'm willing to try. For this to work, though, you need to accept that I'm not the person you used to know."

"Part of you is." Pavel replied, his eyes wide and trusting.

"It's the other parts you may have a problem with."

"Ilana…" Pavel started cautiously. "It is no surprise zat you are a MACO. I mean, it is, but zere vas alvays something…dark in you."

Lana stared down at her younger brother in frozen shock. But when she thought about it, she really shouldn't be so surprised. He was always too smart and too perceptive for his own good. Her eyes fell shut and she heaved a great sigh. "I tried so hard to hide it. I buried it and locked the beast away in the back of my mind. But after you left, it came out ten times stronger than when I put it in. For the first time in my life, I really wanted to kill someone. Every time I think about how angry and out-of-control I was back then, I thank God that I found the MACOs. If I hadn't, who knows what kind of monster I could have become."

"You have so little faith in yourself, sister." Pavel smiled tiredly.

"And you have too much faith in me. You always did." Lana gave a gentle smile back, but it faded as memories surfaced. "That's the problem, Pavel. You never understood. You thought I could go as far as you, do as much good as you were capable of, but that's not me. A person can't have the kind of childhood I did without some serious side-effects."

"I vas in zat house, too, Ilana." he said quietly.

"We may have been raised in the same house, but you and I had very different childhoods." Lana shot back. "You had someone who loved you and took care of you and protected you; I didn't. God, if you knew half the things that went on in that house, you'd be horrified! But I shielded you from the worst of it. From _her_."

"I knew." Pavel admitted. "I knew about ze men and ze money zey gave Mama. I knew ven she slapped you around and yelled zose horrible, untrue things at you. I knew ven she…" Pavel couldn't say the rest, the more awful things.

Lana just stared. "Why didn't you say anything?" she whispered brokenly.

"You may resent raising me, but it vas ze only good in your life and I knew it. If I told you, you vould have felt like you failed me and zat is not true." Pavel said. Lana stayed quiet, absorbing what had just passed between them. "Do you know…about Mama?"

"Yeah." Lana said vacantly, still in shock. "I was off-planet when it happened, but I found out later. Did you go to the funeral?"

"Nyet. It vas on my graduation day from ze Academy. I vanted to look toward ze future, not ze past."

"Good. I hope her trip to Hell was lonely." Lana said, her voice cold and hard.

"She vas a sad, sick voman, Ilana. You don't have to forgive her, but you don't get to judge her."

"I'm not as forgiving or fair as you, Pavel. I have every right to judge her, after all she did." Lana said, chin jutted forward in defiance. An awkward silence fell between them at her declaration, but Lana wasn't going to sugar coat who she was for her brother's sake. If he really wanted a relationship, he'd have to get used to the real her. Suddenly remembering the stuffed animal in her lap, she thrust it forward abruptly. "Oh. Right. This is for you."

The awkwardness melted away as Pavel's eyes brightened excitedly. He took the bear, turning it over in his hands. "Meesh-Meesh! Vere did you find him?"

"I took him with me when I left Russia."

"Vhy?" Pavel asked confusedly.

And just like that, Lana knew why. "Even when I wanted to, I couldn't leave you behind."

Tears came to Pavel's eyes. "Really?" he asked hopefully.

"Really." Lana nodded. "I took Meesh-Meesh. I even checked up on you every once in a while; I knew when you left the boarding school, I knew when you enrolled in the Academy. It's how I knew you were on Enterprise. And I added you to my name when I changed it."

Pavel's eyebrows furrowed and Lana smiled. "What's your middle name, Pavel?"

"Andreov-" Understanding came into his eyes and he continued softly. "Andreovich."

"I changed my last name to Andre to honor Papa…and you, whether I wanted to admit it or not."

"Then you still love me, da?"

"Da." she said, nodding firmly.

He grinned up at her, the sweet smile that never failed to have her smiling back.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Pavel asked.

"Shoot."

He looked up at her with eager, envious eyes and asked, "How did you get rid of your accent?"

Lana threw her head back and laughed. "It took almost two years. I had to think about every single syllable that came out of my mouth, but I was very determined at the time. You shouldn't lose your accent, though. It's part of what makes you, you. And I happen to know a certain helmsman who thinks its adorable."

Pavel blushed bright red and ducked his head low. "Zen maybe I vill keep it." he mumbled.

Lana grinned.

"Bonding time is over, Crazy." McCoy said, shoving the curtain aside. "He may be your brother, but he's my patient."

"Sorry, I held him off as long as I could." Jim grinned, putting an arm around Lana's shoulder and kissing her temple.

"Thanks." she said, giving him a lingering kiss.

"None of that!" Bones barked at the two. "Exchange bodily fluids somewhere else, preferably away from me and my patient."

"That's not a bad idea." Jim muttered to Lana.

"Except you have a ship to run and I have prisoners to see to." Lana pointed out, a hint of regret in her tone. But she nipped at his earlobe discreetly and whispered, "Later."

Jim smirked. "I'll see you later, then."

With that, he threw her a wink and walked out of Sickbay. While McCoy was checking various readouts and monitors, Lana came to the Pavel's side again.

"You and Keptin Kirk?" Pavel asked, shocked.

Lana opened her mouth to answer, but McCoy beat her to it. "Have you been living under a rock, Chekov? With the games those two have been playing the past couple of months, the whole ship knows. Not to mention the sexual tension they create whenever they're within ten feet of each other. Personally, I'm glad you two have danced the horizontal mambo; maybe the rest of us can get a little peace and quiet."

"Thanks for that." Lana glared, muttering under her breath, "Prick."

"I call 'em like I see 'em." McCoy said unapologetically.

"Anyway." Lana said sharply, shooting McCoy a sour look. "Yes, Jim and I are together. No, you don't get a say in it. And yes, McCoy is looking at a couple of broken bones if he opens his wide, fucking trap on the matter again."

McCoy grinned at her.

"If you are happy, zen I am happy for you." Pavel said simply.

"Thanks." Lana said, taken aback by his support. "I doubt McCoy's going to let you out of here anytime soon, so how about I bring us both dinner when I get off duty? We can catch up…talk a bit."

Pavel smiled. "I vould like that."

Lana gave him a small smile in return before leaving Sickbay.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The next week flew by quickly. The Klingon ship was in much worse shape and it took a lot of trial and error for the repairs to finally go smoothly. Enterprise was done after only a few days and made a short trip to a nearby, M-class planet. There, the ship relieved itself of the burdensome Klingon crew. They were stripped of all weapons and left only with their wits and a supply of rations. Jim also gave them the components of a communications array, but it would take them days if not weeks to put it together properly. In other words, plenty of time for the two ships to make their way back to Earth.

Finally, Enterprise and its trophy ship were ready to make the long trek back to the Sol system. Jim just had one more thing to do before getting underway.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Pike walked into his office after a long day. He sat back in his chair, breathing a heavy sigh and kicking off his shoes under his desk. It was good to be an admiral; it was the dream of almost every Star Fleet officer. But it wasn't as glamorous as all the hype suggested. He'd been in meetings all day: boring, self-important people droning on about bureaucratic procedure and diplomatic policy. What they did was important, but it was laborious, monotonous work sometimes. What he wouldn't give to be a captain again!

He indulged in a moment of relaxation before sitting up. Activating his computer monitor, he checked his messages. There was one from Admiral Archer, inviting him to lunch and a Water Polo match. Another, from Ambassador T'kal, requesting a meeting to discuss an exchange of resources. He looked at the rest of the call-log and noticed a message from Enterprise. Pike breathed a sigh of relief; they hadn't heard from Enterprise in so long, Pike was beginning to think they'd fallen victim to the Klingons as well.

Pike selected the message and was greeted by Jim Kirk's arrogant smirk and laughing eyes. "Admiral Pike. I know its been a while, but believe me, you'll find it worth the wait. I just wanted to let you know that Enterprise is coming home. Oh, and I'm bringing a surprise with me. I'd tell you over the comm. but this is the type of news that's best given in person. Honestly, I just want to see your face when you find out." Jim laughed and Pike scowled at the image. "We should be entering the system in about a week and a half. See you then."

Pike stared at his now blank screen. "If he brings me a pregnant MACO, I'll kill him."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Okay guys, second to last chapter! Read and Review, tell me what you'd like to see for the ending, what you think about the story in general, etc. etc. Oh, and there's going to be a third installment, with Bones finding someone. Tell me what you think, I treasure your input!**


	14. Last Play

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, but I love it anyway.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Admiral! Admiral!" A breathless, urgent voice echoed down the corridors outside Pike's office. A young man skidded to a halt in front of the Admiral's open doorway, panting.

"What is it, Mullen?" Pike asked, not even looking up from his work.

"Lunar One Colony has detected Enterprise!" Mullen reported.

This got Pike's attention. He stood abruptly, palms flat on his desk. "Where?" he asked tightly.

"They're at a dead stop, just inside the system. It's like they're…waiting for something."

Pike nearly growled. He knew exactly what they were waiting for: him. Jim might not be too pleased when he arrived, though. He'd contacted Enterprise a dozen times: asking, demanding, ordering, pleading, coercing Jim into telling him what this was all about. Nothing. Jim would just grin and say 'You have to see it to believe it, Admiral.'

God damn it, it was affecting his sleep! Tossing and turning, wondering what Jim would have in store for him. His first thought was 'God help us all, Lana's pregnant with Jim Kirk's hellion child.' Even after days, he still hadn't quite ruled that theory out; getting into Lana's pants after he _specifically_ told him not to was so Jim Kirk. From there, though, his mind considered a thousand scenarios, each more absurd than the last. Maybe the Yashiro hadn't been destroyed after all and Enterprise had found them? Had they destroyed the Klingon ship responsible? Maybe it didn't even relate to the current threat. A cure for something? Contact with a new life form? A new form of propulsion? Time travel? Intelligence critical to the Federation? What? What was it?

Pike shook his head and scowled. His mind had been running in circles for over a week and there was only one man to blame: James T. Fucking Kirk.

"Prep a shuttlepod. I want to leave in five minutes and I want to be on Enterprise in thirty." Pike said through clenched teeth.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Enterprise's transporter room came into focus as Pike materialized on the pad. Jim, Lana and McCoy were waiting to greet him and an unknown ensign was at the transporter controls. Pike stepped off and stopped in front of Jim, his arms crossed.

"Jim." Pike grumbled. "You realize I could have you court-martialed for your conduct over the past few days."

"You could." Jim said casually. "But you won't."

"Oh? And why's that?" Pike asked sharply.

"Because you love me." Jim grinned. "And because you're too curious about this whole thing to let it end so abruptly and tragically."

Pike shook his head and blew out a heavy breath, his anger fading away into acceptance of the situation. Jim Kirk was a force of nature, as uncontrollable and unapologetic as a storm; you could either fight against it and lose or ride it out with a measure of grace and dignity. With resignation and reluctant tolerance, Pike stuck out his hand.

Jim shook it. "It's good to have you back on board, Admiral Pike."

"Good to be back." Pike admitted, looking around the room. Noticing an obvious absence, he asked, "Where's your first officer?"

"Spock's indisposed." Jim said shortly. But there was a laughing, mischievous twinkle in his eye that Pike didn't like.

Pike sighed. "I don't suppose there's any chance you'll just _tell_ me what's going on instead of making me suffer through this."

"You know me so well." Jim grinned.

"We tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't budge." McCoy grumbled. "Just know you're not suffering alone."

"Honestly, Bones, what's life without a little dramatic flair?"

"More tolerable." McCoy answered.

"But far less interesting." Jim countered, smirking.

Pike held back a smile at the familiar banter and moved down the line to greet Lana.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Admiral." Lana nodded respectfully.

As he shook her hand, Pike looked her up and down with a discriminating eye. He searched for a baby bump, but her stomach was taut as ever. Then again, she could only be two months along at most and that's if Jim worked really fast. But she seemed softer somehow, less rigid and controlled. Of course, she was still dangerous, defiant and in love with the challenge of life; after all, you can take the girl out of the MACOs but you can't take the MACOs out of the girl. Most wouldn't see the subtle transformation, but he'd spent a year getting to know her. She had always been angry, emotional, and just…damaged; most in her line of work were. But there was an air of peace around her now, a general feeling of acceptance and contentment within her. Was this the pregnant woman glow?

"Admiral…" Lana started cautiously. "All due respect, but why are you looking at me like that?"

"Yeah, why are you looking at her like that?" Jim echoed, scowling. His tone was considerably more hostile as he maneuvered himself between Pike and Lana. Lana rolled her eyes and elbowed him out of the way.

"Down, boy." she drawled.

"My apologies, Lana. You just seem different. I can't put my finger on it." Pike said, cautiously adding, "Any particular reason why?"

Lana smiled and Pike was taken aback. It wasn't a grin, a sneer, a smirk or that predatory bearing of teeth she did. It was an honest-to-God smile. "Just this place, I guess."

Pike found himself smiling in return. "Enterprise has that affect."

"So!" Jim interrupted the moment, clapping his hands together. "Shall we get to the surprise?"

"If we must." Pike sighed, swinging his arm out in a 'lead-the-way' kind of gesture.

As the foursome moved down the corridors, Pike couldn't help but notice the dynamic between Jim and Lana. They walked in front of himself and McCoy, their fingers grazing occasionally until Lana finally took his hand and laced their fingers together. They spoke about ship operations, Chekov (who was apparently out of sickbay) and nothing in particular. It was their natural way of speaking and interacting that shocked him.

Pike had had the misfortune of witnessing Jim's Ladies Man side far too many times. There was always a shift in him. His voice lowered and held the tone of innuendo no matter what he was saying. His body was relaxed and just on the outer rim of someone's personal space: far enough not to make a girl uncomfortable but close enough to loudly broadcast his interest. His eyes were somehow both brighter and darker when his sights were set on seduction, at times focused with heated intensity and at others, half-mast and suggestive. He would find seemingly innocent ways to touch: moving a strand of hair, hands 'accidentally' bumping together, a lingering brush against a woman as he moved past. It had become such an ingrained behavior, it's how he interacted with women in general. His default setting when around the opposite sex was flirtatious and charming, whether it be a sexy young woman or his 108-year-old academic counselor at the Academy.

But not with Lana. Jim was always very physical in his 'relationships', but never once had Pike seen him simply hold hands with a woman. When his eyes settled on Lana, they weren't reflecting the wheels turning in his mind, wondering how best to seduce her. They were genuinely interested, filled with amusement, challenge, or contemplation. And occasionally lust (this _was_ Jim Kirk after all). But lust wasn't the dominant player anymore, it was just another member of the team waiting for it's time to step up and shine. When he spoke to her, he was a different Jim Kirk even from the man Pike knew. Jim was constantly surrounded by this aura of drive and ambition, always working toward a higher goal with the single-minded focus of a man determined to prove his worth. But again, not with Lana. Pike had the startling realization that his interaction with Lana was very close to how Jim interacted with McCoy or Spock. He was comfortable in his own skin around her.

Jim was…friends? With a woman? A woman he was involved with, no less? What a novel concept for the young man! Pike smothered a proud grin; the kid was finally growing up.

"It's bizarre, isn't it?" McCoy murmured, nodding toward the couple.

"It'll certainly take some getting used to." Pike agreed. "If Lana stays on Enterprise, that is."

"Whaddya mean?" McCoy scowled.

"You know the rules as well as I do. Lana is his subordinate. It's not appropriate."

"Crazy's at the highest rank she can achieve in her position and she's already a department head; it's not like Jim can show her favoritism or promote her because they're together." McCoy argued.

"A relationship could affect their work and their ability to make rational, detached decisions." Pike shot back. "Besides, it doesn't sound like there's any love lost between you and Lana. Why do you care?"

McCoy stopped in his tracks, his hand gripping Pike's upper arm. The normally apathetic, unflappable man had fire in his eyes. "Don't take this away from him." he whispered harshly.

Before Pike could formulate a response, McCoy was already moving down the hall and entering the turbo-lift behind Jim and Lana. Pike shook his head to clear it and caught up with the other officers. The doors closed. Jim and Lana continued to talk between themselves, but there was thick tension between him and McCoy. Both were relieved when the doors opened to reveal the bridge. McCoy's last words didn't sit well with Pike and McCoy was pissed at the brainless, inflexible bureaucracy that decided they could have a say in someone's personal life.

But soon, the conversation faded to the back of their minds as Jim spoke.

"Admiral, we've come home because we have developed a breakthrough technology that will change the course of our relations with the Klingon Empire." Jim said, moving to the Captain's chair.

It was a bold statement and Pike was all ears. Their attempts at diplomacy were failing and communication between the Federation and the Empire was breaking down quickly. Frankly, they needed an edge before war broke out, which could be any day now.

"Okay." Pike nodded slowly. "You've got my attention. What is this new technology?"

"It reveals the presence of cloaked ships." Jim said, pausing so Pike could absorb the vast implications of his words. Then he smirked. "We call it the Andre Pulse."

Scotty stood up from his station on the bridge, finger raised. "Satan's Flaming Sphincter is also on the table." he supplied helpfully. Lana grinned at him.

"Well this I gotta see." Pike sputtered, in absolute flabbergasted shock.

"We can give you a demonstration, if you'd like." Jim said, the mischievous twinkle back in full force.

"I didn't come all this way for a pleasant chat and dinner in the captain's mess! Fire her up!" Pike said, excitement filling him.

"Scotty, you heard the man. Charge the Pulse." Jim ordered.

"Pulse charged and ready, Captain." Scotty grinned.

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Oh, and Admiral?" Jim asked innocently.

"What is it, Jim?"

"This isn't the surprise." Jim's look of innocence morphed into the most wicked grin Pike had ever seen. "Light her up, Scotty!"

Before Pike could question Jim, the charge of the pulse was humming throughout the ship's hull and then a bright blue flash radiated out from Enterprise. The view screen showed the pulse continuing to move through space, but that's not what held Pike's attention. There was an image on the screen, the likes of which he'd never seen. It was a bright blue and sparkling object, oddly enough in the shape of a Klingon ship. It took a moment for his brain to process what he was seeing. If the pulse revealed cloaking technology and this twinkling thing floating in space looked like a Klingon ship, then…

"Oh. My. God." Pike punctuated slowly, barely even breathing. He stared wide eyed at the screen. Jim had just brought him an unbelievably useful piece of technology and, as if that weren't enough, he managed to bring home an intact, fully functioning Bird Of Prey on top of it. All he could say was, "Show off."

"Show_man_." Jim corrected, smirking. "The word you're looking for is showman. Uhura, hail the Klingon ship."

"Aye, Captain." Uhura smiled, turning her chair toward her console. A moment later, Spock occupied the view screen.

"Captain. Admiral." He nodded to each in greeting.

"Spock, shut down the cloaking device." Jim ordered.

"Yes, Captain." Spock said, nodding to someone off-screen to carry out the order. The cloak went down and Spock turned back to the screen. "Captain, request permission to contact Jupiter Station and commence docking procedures."

"Permission granted, Spock." Jim responded. "We'll be there to pick you up when you're finished."

"Understood. Spock out."

The screen went blank and Jim swiveled around in his chair to face the still-stupefied Pike.

"Admiral?"

"Jim." Pike started. "I think you need to give me a thorough report. Now."

"Yes, Sir." Jim grinned. "Lana? Scotty? Join us."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Several hours later, Enterprise had docked with Jupiter Station as well. After explaining the technology behind the pulse, Scotty had left to make sure the Jupiter Station engineers didn't mess with his ship. Spock was still overseeing the Klingon ship, so Jim and Lana were left to give Pike a detailed report of the events of the past few weeks.

"Koros?" Pike asked upon hearing about the Klingon captain. "We have a dossier on him. He used to be a major player; he reported directly to the Council. But he disappeared a few months ago along with most of his staff. I'm not sure what they did, but they were cast out of the Council chambers and exiled for dishonorable conduct."

"They probably thought destroying enemies of the Empire was a way to regain favor." Lana supposed. "That's why they didn't claim responsibility for the attacks. They were waiting to destroy more ships and have the acts recognized in the Empire before stepping forward."

"It's lucky we got the Pulse done when we did." Jim said. "We could have easily become victim number three."

"So the pulse." Pike started, addressing Jim. "That was your idea?"

"No, that was all Lana. Scotty developed the technical aspects of it, but the idea was all her." Jim said proudly.

"And stealing the ship." Pike said, now addressing Lana. "That was your idea, too?

"Are you kidding? Something that bold and reckless has 'Jim' written all over it." Lana said, grinning at him. "It was my idea to infiltrate the ship, but my goal was just to wreak havoc so we could finish our repairs first. Jim took it ten steps further and thought up the heist."

"Wow." Pike said, shaking his head. "You guys are quite the team."

Jim and Lana's eyes held the same look of challenge and defiance. Jim took Lana's hand and said seriously, "We're better together."

Pike looked between them, realizing his concerns about their relationship were unfounded. Oh, he still thought fraternization between superiors and subordinates wasn't appropriate, but for these two people, as always, the rules just didn't seem to apply. Their relationship made them stronger. They played off each other's ideas and challenged each other to take things to the next level of brilliance. Instead of shutting down when their lover was in the face of danger, it made them fight and work harder. Danger was a way of life for both of them and they gave a whole new meaning to the term 'power couple'.

"Well." Pike drawled. "I can't argue with results. Together, you've managed to pull off the impossible."

"Then we can still see each other." Lana stated more than asked.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll hold off the brass at Star Fleet, if you two can be discreet about your relationship. You _can_ be discreet, can't you?"

Jim and Lana looked at each other and grinned. They were both about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but if it meant being together, they'd learn. "We'll figure something out."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The senior staff was the last of the Enterprise crew still left on the ship and they were walking together toward the transporter room. Jupiter Station engineers were crawling throughout the bowels of the ship, in the hallways poking around conduits and they had completely flooded engineering.

"I canna believe it!" Scotty cried helplessly, watching an engineer work in the corridor. "They're tearin' her apart! Be careful with that, you idiot! She's a gentle lady, you have to treat her with care!"

"It can't be helped, Scotty." Jim said apologetically. "They have to get a look at the Pulse and find a way to streamline it so they can start implementing it throughout the fleet. You have to admit, it is kind of jury-rigged."

"Of course it's jury-rigged!" Scotty snapped. "We built it in less than two days! But I wouldn't trust these morons to scrub Enterprise's plasma conduits, let alone her critical systems! And now they're infesting my beautiful ship like termites! Can't ya do somethin', Captain? Let me stay on Enterprise while they work."

"It's not up to me, Scotty. Believe me, I'm no happier about another forced vacation than you are." Jim grumbled. "We just did this two months ago!"

The group arrived in the transporter room and stood quietly, not wanting to say goodbye.

"So." McCoy broke the silence. "Where are you and Crazy going?"

Lana and Jim looked at each other uncertainly. Then Lana's face slowly broke into a challenging grin. "You ever been deep-crust spelunking?"

"_You_ ever been orbital diving?" Jim shot back, not missing a beat.

The two continued to banter and argue over their next extreme outing, even while getting onto the transporter pad. McCoy shook his head, but there was a small smile on his lips as he watched them.

"We've got six weeks." Lana pointed out. "Why not do both?"

"Sounds like a plan." Jim smiled, taking Lana's hand. "You with me, Delilah?"

The transporter beamed them away, but Lana's response lingered in the silent room. "Always, Malak."

**The End**

**It's been a fun ride guys! Read and Review! I'll be doing a third installment of the Sister Series, focusing on Bones. Look for it in a month or two! **


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